


Claiming Her

by Dymer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Blood, Drama, F/M, Gangs, Gun Violence, Jealousy, Manipulation, Mobster Dean Winchester, Murder, Obsessive Behavior, Organized Crime, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Rough Sex, Russian Mafia, Sex, Smut, Spanking, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-08-11 14:37:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dymer/pseuds/Dymer
Summary: It's the excitement of putting her in a tight corner and limiting her choices. The thrill of getting her to do anything he wants. The buzz from knowing she would reject him the second she had the chance. The feeling is new. Maybe because he's never been rejected before.





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural and all of its characters. The plot and all the OCs are mine.

Dean Winchester is a lot of things but one thing that everyone knows the most is that he is terrifying. He also has a short temper and heart so cold like a stone brick in winter. He has a habit of pulling the trigger whenever things don’t turn out the way he wants them to and it doesn’t help that people fear him. His parents died from a plane crash a long time ago, leaving a four year old Dean and his little brother, Sam, who was barely six months all alone. That is until his uncle took them in, which had been very convenient at the time for Arthur, his uncle’s name, had always wanted a son. Arthur is the leader of a leading Russian mob, with headquarters in Moscow and bases spread all over America. Wayne Mill, the name of the organization was inevitably introduced to Dean.

Arthur already saw the potential the boys had and thus he was determined that they were meant to continue his legacy. He taught them both ways into his life. By the age of 7, Dean no longer passed time by playing video games or riding bikes. Instead, he was invited to self-defense classes. Instead of the country history, his uncle taught him about the Wayne Mill roots and how it came into being. Instead of going on a hunt and watching his uncle shoot deers in the forest, Arthur handed him a wide range of guns and taught him how to shoot a target.

As days passed, his uncle kept teaching him new things and pulling him deeper into the world of Wayne Mill and the dangerous activities it revolved around. His first kill took place when he was 14 years old, when Arthur found out there was a traitor inside the brotherhood, and he gave his nephew the order to punish him, which was to shoot the poor man. After that event occurred, Dean was officially and completely stripped of all nuances of being a youth. He grew colder and more reserved. He became more cut off from the world. All that he knew was Wayne Mill and how to survive its challenges and politics.

Arthur is really protective of Dean and Sam in terms of who they associate with. For the most part of their lives, they lived in Russia and both finished Military school there. All of their friends come within Wayne Mill brotherhood circle. Despite the fact they were raised in a very strict environment with rules and imparted with certain outlooks, Sam has always maintained a more convivial attitude and is easily friends with everyone in the brotherhood.

Dean, on the other hand, is more reserved and unforthcoming. He is pretty calculating and can pick up on even the smallest fluctuations of a person’s nature. He doesn't trust others easily, not even if they are in the Brotherhood. His social circle only includes Sam, and one Wayne Mill member named Lyov, who is a few years older than Dean and is Arthur’s most trusted member. He is a stately and solidly built man with a heavy jaw and fine black hair trimmed in an alarming bowl-cut. Lyov helps Dean to become faster, stronger and better. They train, run and lift weights together. It has also come to pass that they are like a deadly combo. 

Arthur made a bold move as to assign Dean the head position to run the Wayne Mill organization in the United States when he was only 22 years old seeing as his nephew displayed nothing but sheer ambition to please him and the Wayne Mill. Dean was more than happy to do as his uncle wished. Within only two years of leadership, Dean had proven to be suitable and done nothing but impeccably remarkable effort in his pursuit to thrive. At this, his uncle gave him the responsibility to operate the two largest bases in the US, namely in New York and Los Angeles.

Now, 13 years into being the captain of Wayne Mill, Dean has lived a pretty busy and dangerous life which he enjoys so much. His life pretty much revolves around gunrunning, extortion, contract killings, political bribery, art thefts, illegal drugs and so many more. And he always does his business gracefully without leaving a single detail that would risk him in a fatal situation. And to this day, whenever he goes and whatever he does, Sam and Lyov are always there with him along with his other men.

Dean also never lets himself stuck with the same woman long enough to think she is special for him. He can’t and doesn’t trust any of them. The fact that he is also gifted in terms of appearance what with stunning green eyes, great hair and prominent cheekbones makes it easy for him for women always throw themselves at him. Being the most eligible bachelor in LA surely doesn't do his ego any good. He fucks a different girl every night; models, heirs of a multi-million dollar companies, doctors, lawyers, or women that attend parties at his club The White Stripes. He can’t let himself make the mistake of being attracted to a woman while he has something way more important to do, ruling the Wayne Mill. He is doing well with detaching himself from all kinds of emotions in his life as a captain of a dangerous mob organization. He can’t let emotions to take part in every single decision he has to make. Not if he wants to survive. He succeeds in doing that and he is immensely proud of it.

His life is never dull. When he is not busy taking care of Wayne Mill, he goes to his exclusive night club, The White Stripes, and has a short debriefing session with the manager before he goes to the VIP section and has his needs fulfilled. And it’s not just The White Stripes that he owns. Both Sam and Dean have a lot of other things going on on the side starting from owning an IT company, banks, restaurants, and even political affiliation to put up an appearance and cover Wayne Mill from the oblivious part of the world. But the majority of Los Angeles and New York residents have heard of Wayne Mill and what the Winchesters are capable of.

.

He makes an appearance at his club every three or four days to ensure that it still runs well.  More often than not, this place becomes his only blandishment when he's had a long day. Actually, the club may just be his second favorite thing that he owns. His father's tech company, Winchester Inc. being the first. As a matter of fact, being a CEO of a multi-million dollar company is what most the rich and political elites of Los Angeles know him as. He doesn't mind the endless responsibilities that come with it. He is still very much capable focusing on his Wayne Mill responsibilities as well. 

So, there he sits, in his usual head chair inside the executive board room on the twelfth floor of the Winchester Inc. Tower, listening to Sam rambling on about the take-over for the Chinese microchip company. Today is no different than any other board meetings except that it seems to drag on for hours. It's also one of those days where he had to deal with the inept Wayne Mill members who had managed to do all the work wrong which resulted in unnecessary numbers of body dropping. Having to attend a tedious meeting after that only makes him uncharitable. The only consolation is that the meeting is nearly done and his agenda today includes going to White Stripes.

"We're able to negotiate a slightly cheaper price than what they initially agreed upon. This allows us to purchase the majority of the shares. We can now almost double our efficiency as a result of overlapping responsibilities being eliminated and decreasing the operating costs." Sam drones as he points his laser to the presentation on the projector. Having completed his Master's in Business Management has made Sam a very valuable asset to the company, especially when it comes to negotiation. 

"Alright, Sam. Everyone's clear on the contract. Let's wound this meeting up." Dean looks at his watch as an emphasize.

Resisting the urge to scold his brother unprofessionally, Sam nods and and clicks into the proper presentation to end the meeting. Dean's apparent impatience must have something to do with the Wayne Mill business they had to deal with earlier.

"The Sinopec Group sent over their signed contract before the meeting. So, we are basically 100% finished with the process. Unless, any of you has a new proposal to bring to the table?" he glances around the table for an answer. Everyone shakes their heads and there's a chorus of no's.

"Right." Sam nods his head. he pulls out a fancy looking fountain pen from his pocket and approaches Dean to hand him the documents he needs to sign.

When all the documents have been signed, Dean steps away from the table making it clear the meeting has come to an end. Everyone takes the hint and they get up and file out. 

"We might need to go over the updated documents before sending our email of compliance to Sinopec." Sam states as he walks beside Dean, the halls of the building having since long been memorized as they make their way to the elevator.

"How come?"

"Precautions." Sam says. "My source says these people are not above using the white and gray knight defense."

Dean's brows furrow in thought. "Then we have to find a way to use it to our advantage."

"Already on it. They enlisted the help of another company to bail them out by offering them attractive concessions, in return for buying enough stock to stalemate our takeover. But, they're not aware that the company's owner they enlisted our aid from was recently taken over by none other than the Seattle waterfront boss, Meyer Lucchese. We could form an alliance and ask him to make outrageous demands, far exceeding those they offered and to inform Sinopec they would replace most of their staff."

His eyes flick to Sam. "Are you saying Sinopec would have to put themselves in debt to make no other company interested in buying them out?"

"That's the last thing the Sinopec Group wants."

"Well, I like where this is going. But, I thought Lucchese was one of those old-school mafiosi. He'll never work with anyone who is not Sicilian."

"Yes. But he's also an ambitious leader who craves absolute control. You know that the Seattle crime underworld is currently split into two Sicilian factions; Lucchese and Genovese. Well, I heard Luchesse recently lost his most powerful ally because he chose voluntary deportation to Italy. He's obviously in need of more support to neutralize Genovese."

The death of Genovese would give Luchesse majority control of the Seattle mafia. He'd be stupid to turn down their help and their formidable death squad.

"Alright, how do you suggest we run this idea by Lucchese?"

"We have to make him come here. And then arrange a secret meeting at a neutral location. We should make it tonight, though. Sinopec expects our email of compliance by tomorrow."

Dean contemplates for a moment. "Fine." His reply is gruff. He was really looking forward to spend the night getting sloshed at his club.

.

Meyer Luchesse finally agrees on a meeting. He's aware of the Winchesters' sprawling army of cold-blooded killers and prolific assassins. This golden opportunity is certainly something he doesn't want to pass up. Their meeting will take place at a place called Hopeless, as per Lyov's suggestion. Luchesse can't be seen step foot into Dean's well-known territory so his house and club aren't the best options. 

Hopeless is a night club located in what considered as the "sleepy hamlet of Green Valley".  The local law enforcement is so passive about the influx of mobster ever since Wayne Mill dominated Los Angeles with an iron fist and no agency will share information with them. If they gave information to authority or anyone who's considered as a threat, it would be in Dean's hands within an hour.

This club is decent but a little plain. People recognize him the second he steps foot into the bar. For a solid minute, it seems like the entire crowd in the club freeze upon seeing Dean. It is unheard of for a Wayne Mill leader to hang out in a common club like this one. He settles into the club with his back to the wall, noting all the patrons and the exits of the club.

His companions order them drinks and all the while Dean keeps an eye out. Two girls come over slobbering over him already. Normally, he would go for it but for some reason they aren't cutting it for his dick right now.

“Luchesse said we should expect a 10 - 15 minutes delay.” Sam says as they settle into the corner booth. Away from people.

"He is expecting me to wait for him?"

Sam makes an apologetic face when Dean's face turn into a scowl. He's aware of what causing his grumpiness.

“This place is not that bad." Says Lyov, trying to ease off Dean's crankiness. "Check out that chick in that flimsy purple outfit. That seems like your type.” He points to a blonde who is talking to slash flirting with a group of men.

“Pass.”

"Really? You look like someone kicked your puppy. I've know you too long to know what puts you in this particular mood." 

Dean glances at the direction of the girl again and he is about to tell Lyov to go get her just so he'll get off his back when a waitress approaches their table to bring their drinks. And that’s when Dean sees the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life. Oh fucking hell, Dean swears inwardly as he looks her over. She has to be the hottest little Brunette he’s ever laid his eyes on.

She has a fantastic body posture. That much he can tell by her half buttoned white shirt. And those daisy dukes are really working for her.

When the pretty girl places their drinks on the table and averts her gaze between them, there is no change in her demeanor. Her expression remains the same and she does not turn her smile into a seducing grin when her gaze locks with his. Her smile is obvious not intended to be flirty but a friendly one servers usually give for their customers.

An understanding dawns on him, then. She has no idea who he is. This girl does not know that she is serving Dean Winchester.

When he sees her face his mind goes blank, and words seem to fail him. This waitress is absolutely beautiful. She looks professional and not even once batting her eyelids at him trying to get his attention.

He hears Sam says thank you and the pretty girl gives another her beautiful smile and walks away. His eyes keep following her until she disappears through the crowd. And even he does not avert his gaze for quite a long time. He needs to find out who she is.

“Oh. Man.” Sam says amusedly.

Dean turns his head. “What?”

“You want her.” His brother grins. And a slight chuckle is heard coming out from Lyov’s mouth.

He says nothing and raises his eyebrow instead. That is all the confirmation Sam needs.

“I don’t think she is that type of person, though. How are you gonna get her?”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowns

Sam shrugs. “A hooker.” He explains bluntly.

Dean looks at him funny, “You just saw her serving us drinks. That seems like a hooker to you?”

“Even if she isn’t. She won’t come with you willingly.” Lyov offers his opinion, “She just got that uh… innocent aura exuding from her.”

Dean does not offer any input and instead he looks at the bar area and there he sees her serving customers. He ignores his friend’s comment and pulls out his phone instead.

“Who are you texting?” Lyov asks

“Mark.” He says, never looking up from his phone until he is finished. He looks at both his friends and smirks.

Neither Sam nor Lyov says anything. Already know what exactly is going on. Dean always comes to Mark, a lackey of his, if he needs intel fast and any kind of information about this city.

Dean leans back in his seat. Knowing that Mark will know the text is to find out the pretty brunette, Dean puts his phone down and relaxes in his seat. As he sips his beer and sits in waiting, his impatience starts to surface when images of her being under him starts flooding his mind. He needs to have her soon.

Six minutes pass before Dean receives an e-mail from Mark.

“Julie Dale. 24. Havant Glades 219. Massachusetts born.” Dean says the text out loud.

“What is she doing living in Havant area? Doesn’t she know that place is dangerous?” Sam asks curiously.

Dean shrugs and puts his phone back in his pocket. “Mark says she has just moved here two months ago.”

“Don’t do something crazy, man. There’s still plenty of woman who throw themselves at you at will. Just forget about what’s-her-face.” Sam tells him. Though he admits that the brunette is gorgeous but he can’t let Dean waste his time chasing some random woman while the Wayne Mill depends on him.

Dean gives him a menacing look, “I’m not an idiot. I won’t do anything that can jeopardize my life or Wayne Mill.” He says.

Both Lyov and Sam watch him as he continues sipping his beer. Seemingly unaware of the calculating glare his companions are throwing at him.

He isn’t stupid. He knows them both well enough to know that they will keep an eye on him for the next few days until they are convinced that he really forgets about her. He will just play it easy right now and put on his mask of indifference that he has mastered way too well.

Besides, little Julie isn’t going anywhere anyway.


	2. Of Great Consequence

Julie has been working at Hopeless for a month now. She considers herself lucky to have the job. Living in LA when you have no relatives or anything else for that matter can be rough. Most of the time her life depends on luck. In the two months that she has spent here, she’s worked two different jobs excluding this. The last two gigs didn’t turn out so well. The first job was situated far from her apartment and she always got the night shift. She always had to endure walking past a group of drunk during her way home in the alley. Again she was lucky to get away every time. Her boss at her second job was nice, really nice. She thought she could finally heave a relief sigh because this could be the beginning of where everything started to fall into place. But then he got too nice and when she rejected his unwelcome advances, she ended up with bruises on her body.

Hopeless isn’t exactly a friendly working environment for her but it’s better than the previous ones. Her boss, Carlos, has not been very nice to her since the first day she started working here. She has come to understand that her manager likes to take advantage of hiring people desperate for a job in exchange for a minimum wage.

When Julie was 19 years old, her parents’ had gone bankrupt due to financial crash at the time which made their investments and stocks practically worth dirt. Despite the fact that they’d tried to cover some of the debt they’d accumulated over the years, it had all came to naught because the crisis that hit the global economy had made it harder for them to meet the payment’s on time. And when the banks were getting antsy and demanding her parents most of what they owed all at once, they were foolish enough to seek help from a Loan Shark Tommy Capellini. A few months later, when her parents were barely getting back on their feet, Capellini’s henchmen came barging in and demanded that they pay all their debts. Desperate, her father let out words that sounded like music to Tommy’s ears, saying he’d do anything if only he would give him more time. With a spreading smile that boded ill, Tommy said his father could pay him anytime in exchange for Julie.

When his father agreed to his terms, Julie had been taken aback and scared. But when Capellini and his henchmen left their house, his father drove her to her grandmother’s who lived on the other end of the state and told her not to come home until he told her it was all over. Two weeks later, she received the news of her parents’ death.

She had succeed in hiding from Capellini for three years until he found her, and he was still as obsessed with her as ever. That was when she and her grandmother started moving from one city to another. When this proved to be ineffective. She was forced on the run again and this time, from one state to another to get away from him. Soon afterwards, she could tell that her grandmother’s condition began deteriorating but she kept telling her that she was alright. Julie finally settled in LA and picked the dark and dank corner of the city to live in, because she had a feeling Capellini wouldn’t think of searching through this part of town.

She now lives in one of the seediest sections of town because that’s the only place where she can afford a place to live. Her little apartment has two rooms along with a tiny kitchen in the corner. She tried her best to make it like home as it is practically thread bare and grey. Her grandmother is always waiting for her each day she gets home. She’ll cook for dinner and her nana will inevitably fall asleep. She is used to living a lonely existence as a result of constant running from Capellini for years. She has always been so insulated in her life that she doesn’t even realize it’s starting to become so small. Every time she’d move to a new town, she never gets the chance to get familiar with her surrounding because the next thing she knows she’d find herself running again. She is pretty much oblivious to the outside world and never gets to read newspaper or watch TV. So, the news outside of her small existence is usually only things she overhears from her co-workers, customers, or people she walks by.

.

Her job at Hopeless is always uneventful and dull. But on a cold November day, Polly, her co-worker, tells her that three of the most privileged men in Los Angeles sit down in their bar as they speak. When Julie gives her a blank look, Polly rolls her eyes and tells her about a group of guys she’s just served.

Polly goes on to tell her that it’s Dean Winchester, the Wayne Mill captain and that he basically owns this city. Then, in the next second, Julie watches a squabble goes down in the kitchen between Polly and the other waitresses, currently fighting over who should get first dibs to serve him next.

Dean and his companions are gone, however, before they get to decide, leaving Polly in a miserable mood the rest of her shift thinking it’s probably the first and last time he ever stepped foot into the bar.

Julie, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. She is dead tired but her shift won’t be over for another one hour. She can just bail since her manager has already gone three hours ago but Laney is still here and everybody knows she is a huge kiss ass and will do anything to get on their manager’s good side, including telling their manager on them.

.

A week later, however, Dean makes another appearance at Hopeless, to everybody’s surprise as this is not exactly the kind of place his kind normally frequents. Only this time he is alone and is served by a different waitress. This one obviously knows him because she greets him by his name in a flirtatious voice. He ignores her sweet empty words and asks for Julie instead.

“She is busy serving other customers.” The waitress who’s introduced herself as Laney says. Clearly annoyed that her attempt of seduction has been rejected.

“Well, get her!” Dean barks.

She huffs but obliges and turns around to get Julie.

Dean sees his new obsession coming towards him no more than five minutes later. Which is quite a long wait for him. He doesn’t know what that stupid bitch has told her but he can clearly see the curious mien on her face. While she is straightening her apron, he notices her stance isn’t as relaxed as when she was serving him for the first time last week.

“How can I serve you today, sir?” she asks with a curtsey.

He assesses her for a moment, knowing well he is known for his intimidating stare. He doesn’t miss her fingers fidgeting with the notepad she is holding.

“Just a beer.” He finally says.

She walks back inside to prepare for his order and brings it to his table, placing the drink down in front of him.

“Will that be all?”

“How long have you been working here?”

It’s obvious from seeing the expression on her face that the question is startling for her.

“About four weeks.”

"And do you like working here?"

“Yes.” She doesn’t elaborate her answer and he clearly sees that this conversation is making her uncomfortable.

"What's your name?" he asks even though he already knows. He wants to see if she would lie through this one.

"Julie."

He hums slightly. 

“If there’s nothing else that you need.” Julie says quickly and turns around without waiting for an answer. This Dean guy is giving off a bad vibe what with his brooding stare and seemingly threatening posture. Even while he is leaning back in his seat. She doesn’t even want to know why he asked for her earlier.

He calls for her again almost immediately and she obliges with reluctance, though a tiny smile is plastered on her lips when she approaches his table.

"Come sit with me."

 "I'm sorry but I have to work."

"Then how about dinner tonight?"

Her face gives away her surprise. The blatant invitation wasn’t something she expected. She doesn’t really know this man but she knows from the way Polly has spoken of him that this man is someone important in this city and that nobody dares to mess with him.

She wracks her brain for something to say, one that won't upset him but will get him to back out.

Julie purses her lips. "I'm sorry but my manager is very strict when it comes to the rules of con-

"Then I'll speak to your manager that it's me who asks you out."

This isn't good. She thinks, horrified. He is obviously someone in power in LA. Julie is getting a bad feeling about Dean. Her intention of moving to LA is to start fresh and avoid any kind of trouble. It just seems that the universe has other plans for her. And she isn’t naïve either as to why he is asking her out. Some customers before him also came in with relentless badgering attitude. Though, in his case it's pretty light. Some rude customers would sometimes become grabby and make crude comments. Every time they'd ask her out, they always want the same thing in mind. It definitely isn’t for them to get to know each other or become friends. And it seems it isn't any different with Dean. Usually, the club's code of conduct excuse would do the trick. With Dean, it seems like she needs to try harder.

“I am sorry. I am actually kind of seeing someone at the moment.” She offers an apologetic smile.

He makes a sound that could be a hum or anything at all. “With who?”

Julie does not want to answer but can’t see any way around it.

She rattles her brain trying to come up with a believable scenario, but she can’t come up with anything. And the pause between them is getting a little too long.

“If there is nothing else that you need today.” She doesn’t wait for his answer again and goes back to the kitchen. And like anyone curse to hell, he calls her back instantly.

Julie rolls her eyes and sighs. If he was someone else and she wasn't so afraid of getting fired, she'd ignore him, but her friends have warned her about him. While his surprise appearance here last week inevitably raised the image of Hopeless, it also simultaneously raised the alarm because the Wayne Mill captain usually always means business. Woe betide her if she does something that upsets him! Or so her co-workers said.

Dean watches her as she approaches his table and stands there defiantly. He can see that he’s starting to get on her nerves and he is enjoying every second of it. In all honesty, he is actually impressed that she hasn’t managed to back off in fear. He assumes she must have known who he is by now.

"When are you free then?"

Julie sighs, she knows she should maintain her professionalism but her patience is wearing thin. “We don’t offer such service here, sir. Perhaps you can try down by Hofbrau Gentlemen’s Club, they typically provide service you are looking for.” She doesn't wait for his reply after pointing out the direction, and turns around again.

She hasn’t even made it to the kitchen when he calls her with a curl of his finger.

“It’s rude to walk away in the middle of conversation.” He says in a lazy drawl.

“Oh, I apologize, sir. I just thought you went to the wrong place.” She says with smile she reserves for difficult customers.

“I don't think being rude is part of your job description.” He says.

"That was never my intention, sir." she almost can't help the tone of mocking in her voice, but refrains herself. "Customer satisfaction is our top priority."

"Then try harder." he replies snidely.

Julie has to bit her tongue to stop herself from responding in a way she wants.

“If you don't want anything else from the menu." she says with fake glee. "Have a good day.”

"What happens to the whole  _customer satisfaction_ ethic."

"That only applies when one actually orders something  _from_ the menu."

Julie sees a bare fleeting curl of his lips suggesting he's amused. She’s actually proud of her professionalism is still intact . If anyone could reduce her to street brawling, it would be those people who show total disrespect to her when she has been acting the exact opposite. And Dean is slowly turning into one of those people by the minute. She is also the type of person who’d rather walk away when she senses an irrational dispute about to occur and will only leave her fuming.

 He watches her with hooded, unreadable eyes. “What I want I always get.” He says and to her surprise, gets up from his seat. Julie watches him stalk off without looking back. He didn’t even touch his beer.

 _Did he just come here to torment me?_ What a jackass. She thinks.

She feels relief washes over her when he walks out the door and completely disappears. She doesn’t think she could take any more of his nonsense had he kept insisting.  She knows she has been pushing it but she didn’t say anything that could directly be labeled as irresponsible. Though, she’s gotten close to the line.

She blows off the implied threat, hopefully she would get lucky and never see him again. She sure hopes so because she really can’t afford to lose another job right now.

.

“Why so glum, chum?” Maria asks when Julie comes back to the kitchen with a sour look plastered all over her face. She is the only co-worker that she actually likes other than Polly. She is her senior and is incredibly wise that she almost looks up to her like she’s her big sister.

“A customer I just served was a total douche.” She says, dumping the tray on the table with a little bit of force. “I think I may’ve exasperated him though, he left without touching his beer.” She adds with a shrug.

Maria stops her movement when she remembers seeing Julie walking over to Dean’s table earlier. “Does this douche happen to be 6’1 tall with green eyes and great hair?” she asks with cautious voice.

Julie nods.

“Oh god.” She gasps, “did he say anything to you right before he left?” She rushes on, her voice bordering on panic.

Julie repeats what Dean has said to her earlier.

“Oh, honey. This is bad.” Maria says, “I thought Polly already told you about him and what it means to have him visit Hopeless.”

“She did.”

“Then you should’ve known what to expect and what to do.” There is regret in her voice, and she looks at her younger co-worker with pity.

Julie begins to have a bad feeling that Dean might be true to his word. He’ll probably harass her again. If only she could go on leave for a while. She would love to not be here if he decided to show up again. Julie never even goes on sabbatical. Carlos doesn't even allow his employees to have days off. Or if she dares count on luck again, she hopes today is the last time he ever came back here, considering the not-so-A1-service he’s just experienced.

But fate decides that she officially runs out of luck today.

Her manager, Carlos, is yelling her name a few minutes later.

 “Julie!” Carlos practically runs toward her direction.

“What is it, Carlos?”

“Am I right that you just served Dean Winchester?” he asks. His eyes tell her he is really upset.

She nods cautiously.

“Well, I just got off the phone with him and he said you were rude to him. Do you have any idea what it could do to my business, you stupid girl!” he spits. Julie is mortified as several people nearby stop to listen. Laney stands a few feet away behind Carlos, staring with satisfaction on her expression. Julie rattles her brain for something that won't get her immediately fired.

“Carlos, I wasn’t—

“And you spat in his face?! After all I’ve done for you.” Carlos says.

Julie is shocked to the core. Dean is getting her fired. For what, turning him down? Doesn’t he ever think for a second of what the consequences are for her. It would be really difficult for her to get another job if she left this one with no references.

“He lied. You have to believe me.” She pleads

“You are fired!” the angry manager spits the words in her face.

Julie’s mouth goes agape. She can’t believe this.

She goes to protest but Carlos continues, “If I ever see you step foot in my club again I will kill you.” And with that he turns and storms off, leaving Julie dumbfounded and shocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the three people that commented and all the kudos left on the first chapter! Please keep them coming if that’s not too much to ask.


	3. Bargaining

Julie is more than mad. She is in rage and beyond disappointed. She storms out of the club shortly after Carlos left. She hears Maria approaching and calling for Carlos, probably to try to talk him into hiring her back. But she doesn’t care. She knows she won’t get her job back. Instead, Julie runs off to the shabby back room, rips off her apron, pick up her handbag and storms out.

Julie keeps walking down the empty street, anger seems to increase with each step she takes. She needs an outlet to let out her rage. Maybe she can go back to the club and find Carlos, then give him a bitch-slap or two. But her steps keep pushing her forward, away from that godforsaken place.

She is rounding the corner in an alley when the bitterness welled up in her reaches its peak. And instead of lashing out, she breaks down with a sob. In that moment, reality seems to finally hit her in the face. Anger, bitterness, and disappointment clash in a blistering wave and it results in a painful emotion she can't ignore for it's magnified ten-fold. Tears burst to her eyes without warning. Her hands go up to cover her face as the tears leaking down her cheeks.

She really can't afford to lose another job this month and somehow she managed to do just that. She can barely afford their day to day needs working at Hopeless, even after she's worked double shifts. This month’s payment is due next week and she sure doesn’t need unemployment to add to the pile. Maybe Polly can help her out of a tight squeeze like she did three weeks ago. But Julie knows she's on her own in this city and she doesn't have much of anything either.

She lets herself cry in the alley for a little while until her emotions start to subdue, and she can compose herself again. It’s still three hours before she is supposed to go home. She thinks maybe she should prolong her walk but she doesn’t know where to go. The need to curl up in her bed suddenly surfaces. Maybe being in the comfort of her home with her nana around will provide some sort of consolation.

Julie comes home without saying a word like she usually does. She is feeling too bleak at the moment to put up a sunny appearance. Her nana stops her knitting when she sees her from the sofa. Julie can’t see it but she knows her nana must pick something up as she watches her retreating back, but no words are uttered.

Against all odds, she is able to sleep the moment she plops down on the bed. But it’s only for a short while. The knock on her door wakes her up. It's her grandmother telling her that she just made dinner. Now Julie is convinced her nana knows something is up. She is the one who always makes dinners, even when she'd go home late, she would make sure there's dinner sitting in the fridge so her nana would only have to put it in the oven. They eat in silence for a little while until her grandmother finally inquires her about that dreadful event. Julie gives her some excuse, not sure she buys it. Her grandmother prods her into giving her details, but Julie just gives her another excuse.

She tries to keep herself busy after dinner to prevent her mind and emotions going wayward. Her grandmother even offers to stay a bit late, probably hoping to give her solace. But Julie puts her to bed. She washes the dishes. She also finds dirty clothes in the hamper and does a load of laundry. When she knows there's nothing else to do, she reluctantly drags herself back into her room,

Julie has trouble going back to sleep. a part from the short nap she took earlier, her mind is still wide awake. There's only so much distraction her brain can come up with before it'll eventually relent and the memory of today comes back like a stab in the chest.

Her tears pour down again and she has to sob into the pillow, not wanting to make any sound and wake her grandmother. Dean has ruined her life. All because she refused his offer. Never in her life has she ever allowed herself to believe that one has the capacity to be so heartless like Dean does. She doesn't even understand the underlying reason that drove his action. All she did was reject his offer politely. What's in it for him besides a mere cheap trill, anyway.  Or maybe this is all about being true to his word.  _he always gets what he wants._ This is the first step to proving his words are weapon, or worse, law.

She never encountered a man with such power before, except Capellini. And even he scares her so much. She isn't sure she wants to seek clarification on the extent of Dean's unconventional authority and power. One thing for sure is that she never wants to see him again. Julie finally falls asleep when her crying subsides into sniffles.

.

Julie has been awake since 5 AM and she has been pacing in her bedroom thinking about their future. She has to try to score herself a new job today. She is practically cash-strapped. There's no time to wallow in grief or sulk in anger; not if she wants to end up thrown on the street by the end of this month.

Julie eventually goes out in the morning like she usually did when she was still at Hopeless to avoid her grandmother asking questions. 

Julie passes a floral shop and her heart flares with expectation when she sees a little sign that says ‘help wanted’ on the window.

When she makes her way into the shop, the owner smiles brightly and greets her.

“Welcome to Fleur Sola. How can I help you with today?”

“The sign on the window says you're hiring?” she asks.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I am looking for someone to fill in the vacant cashier position.”

“I would like to apply for the position, please. My name is Julie Dale.”

She notices the moment her expression drops. She blinks once, twice and then her stare turns disapproving.

“I think I'll hold off on recruiting a new employee at the moment. Now, unless you want to buy, please leave.” She says coldly. her sudden change of demeanor startles her.

A nagging suspicion begins to rise to the surface. Has her fallout at Hopeless cast aspersion on her name?

 It’s becoming more difficult now to keep on being sanguine about her future. But she also keeps telling herself that the world is filled with good people. Besides, it's only the first vacancy she encountered today, she needs to keep trying.

Julie tried five more shops today but they all rejected her. No one wants to give her any work. Somehow the words have gone out that she was fired because of Dean Winchester and that she is trouble. She even went as far as the other end of the city but everyone was adamant that there's no job available. Actually she believes there are vacancies, just not for her.

She is close to having another breakdown again. She isn’t worried about herself now. She is worried about her grandmother. Her medication is about to run out, not to mention winter time has arrived and the heat will soon be out at her apartment. The food is also running out. She can practically see herself begging in the near future. She spends the rest of the day pacing more in the bedroom.

The next day goes exactly the same like yesterday. She spends the day applying for various jobs, and they spit out their rejection right in her face.

Julie is running out of options. She will definitely be down to begging soon. That is, if she chooses to ignore the only other way out which is going back to the club where she had her second job. Only this time, instead for serving drinks, she'd be serving a group of male predators. 

She knows that the prostitutes working at that club are being paid well for their service. Some of them even can live a month on the money they give them. But at the same time the stigma revolving around sex workers in this particular area are horribly real. While this job pays heap, the prostitutes are also regular subject to violence and even substance abuse in order to cope. The moral disgust that surrounds prostitution is something she never thought she would ever be the recipient of. And she doesn't plan to. Julie shakes her head. she is not doing it. There has to be another way. 

She has a pretty good idea about the variations that exist in sex worker violence and the psychological trauma that befall them. That thought wilt her. Her choices are becoming really limited. If she doesn’t find any way out in the next few days, soon she won’t be able to provide for her grandmother anymore. And she has to resort to this,or begging, which is just as bad.

.

Julie feels utterly lost. She doesn’t know what to do, so she reaches out to Polly asking for advice. She doesn't know how and when it all started but their friendship just kind of grew by itself the moment Polly approached her on her first day at Hopeless and warned her about the customer she would serve, who was apparently a regular that would take a mere smile from a waitress as a sign for a romantic date. From that moment, Julie was inclined to like her. And because she always exudes a kind of childish languor, as if it hasn't fully settled in that she is a 25 year old woman. Her natural cheerfulness about everything in her life is kind of contagious.

The blond-haired girl comes around on Sunday afternoon, knocking on the door and taking Julie out.

They slowly walk arm in arm in downtown LA, all the while Julie glances at every store window they walk by to see if there is any vacancy. Julie hasn’t eaten today and so Polly drags her to a diner and have lunch.

While they wait for their order, Polly tells her that Dean has yet to make another appearance at Hopeless after she got fired. Bile rises up in her stomach at the mention of his name. She chooses not to offer any input and looks out the window instead.

“Anyway,” Polly continues, noticing her friend's sudden gloomy mood. “I might be able to give you two options here.”

Julie averts her gaze from the window. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve got a friend. His name is Juan and he is an amatory painter. I used to pose for him once a week and the money I earned was enough for food to last a few days.”

“And you pose as in…”

“Nude.”

Julie can’t hide the surprise shown in her face if she wants to.

“Don’t worry. He is gay.” Her friend reassures her.

She still feels a little apprehensive about it, so she asks about the second option.

“Find a patron.”

“A patron? Like a customer?" Julie asks.

"No, silly!" Polly beams. "More like a sponsor in this case." she says and Julie frowns. Obviously having no idea what she's on about.

"There are men out there who don't have the desire to find a wife but at the same time they always long for a  _friend_.”

“And?”

" _And..._ they would go seek someone who is willing to provide them with some sort of companionship. This works more like a business deal than relationship, though. So, even if you aren't in the mood to be in a relationship, you're still good to go. The only drawback here is that pretty much all of them are all old unattractive men."

"And all of them have no desire to marry or start a proper family?"

Polly shakes her head in confirmation. "That's why they usually seek someone who is infertile, most of the time for the sake of convenience. But that's not always the case. A fertile woman is still as good as her counterpart, as long as the patron shows any interests. And there are some instances where the patron and his lady companion decide to start a family. The dynamism in this whole patronage thing never stops." 

Julie shakes her head. "I don't know." She mutters dismally. "I don't think I'm cut out for this kind of life."

"Suit yourself. I'm merely giving you a way out. But know that you can always come to me if you ever change your mind."

“How do you know so much about this, anyway?” Julie wonders.

“I have been on my own since I was 15. No parents, no money. Nothing. How do you think I’ve managed to survive all this time?”

Still, these two options are not that appealing to her. Giving herself to a patron just seems like she relents to Capellini. And Julie sure does not want to settle down any time soon.

“I think posing for Juan is the safest alternative right now. There is a wee bit problem you should know.” Polly continues.

“What do you mean?”

“It seems that getting you fired wasn’t Dean’s only end game.” Her friend explains and Julie’s face suddenly drops.

“Apparently there is a promulgation that's been in effect for a few days now. And it's not something that has a lot in your favor. ”

Julie sits very still, and for a moment she looks like she is processing what her friend just said before demanding. “What do you mean promulgation?”

"Unfortunately, Dean has imposed some kind of law preventing everyone to professionally associate with you."

Julie feels her anger rises like bile. "There's no way he can do that."

Polly looks at her with regret in her eyes, "I hate to break it to you but Dean has near to absolute political power here. His group is a very powerful force in the government. What he wants he always gets. And apparently he wants you to remain unemployed."

An understanding dawns on her then. So, that’s why no one would hire her.

"Surely not everyone takes this bullshit seriously." Julie scoffs.

"Only those who want to die. But, do you know anyone who volunteers to die, Julie?" Polly says this in a tone that resembles a mother who is trying to get her stubborn child to listen to her. "I know this is awful. But you can't pass this off as a joke."

“So, what’s the point of you telling me about Juan and this patron thing?”

“Looking for a patron can be your very last resort when this whole ‘Julie-special public statement’ thing is no longer in effect and you’re still in need for an urgent alternative. Right now it’s not possible. Meanwhile, Juan will still help you. He’s kind of a lone wolf actually, living in his own world. Never let himself be known to public. He even sells his paintings under an alias. He doesn’t know who Dean is. I think you both will be fine.”

Their food finally arrives and both let the conversation die there. Julie contemplates what Polly is offering her. In all honesty, the idea of a patron may not be that bad to her when she is in her 40 and she finds herself still stuck in the same reduced circumstances as she is right now. She sure hopes her situation would be different when she is 40. She does not even want to think what years of running from Capellini and hardship would do to her psyche. Or maybe, she would die before she even turns 30. This thought makes her stomach churn because that means her grandmother would be on her own. She won’t let that happen. She has also finally found the perfect hiding place in LA. usually, it'd take no more than three weeks for Capellini to find her. It's been almost two months and she still hasn't yet spotted him anywhere, she has no plan of moving out anytime soon. She finally makes up her mind about considering getting in touch with Juan. At least until she finds a steady job.

.

Julie is down to her last dollar the next day and she finally seeks the painter. He is a cheerful guy and won’t let her feel awkward around him. He tells her he is also a yoga master and likes to meditate and that he can read people’s aura. Julie only nods politely even though she never takes this kind of thing seriously. To her it’s just the same as when people believe in astrology. There is no way in hell the positioning of a star in the sky is somehow linked to one’s personality. Sometime during their one-sided talk about her ‘topsy-turvy aura’, he has called her ‘cupcake girl’, because he’s asked about her hobby and what she wants to truly pursue in life. Apparently, asking his clients questions, all kinds of questions, is a routine procedure before getting to the painting bit in order to get to know his painting models and achieve the best result. She’s answered that she has passion for baking and that she would love to have her own bakery someday.

It’s kind of like playing 21 questions, except Juan is the only one asking all the 21 questions. That is until she sees a ring on his finger and inquiries into the background of that.

“It’s Damien.” He says softly. She doesn’t miss the fondness in his voice too. He hands her a photo of him with a guy which she assumes to be his husband, Damien.

“How’d you two meet?” Julie asks.

“We both were attending this Erotic Art Exhibition in London. And let me tell you, Cupcake, I almost didn’t want to come that day but I also needed a fresh take on ideas. I would hate myself forever and even in the afterlife if I had decided to give that show a miss.”

“And he is a painter too?”

“Was.” He says, taking back the frame from Julie’s hand and placing it back on top of the drawer. “He died from cancer three years ago. And that’s when I decided to move here. Our house— it’s just too many memories you know. I wouldn’t be able to help myself after if I kept wallowing in my misery,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring up such sensitive topic.”

He smiles at her reassuringly, “It’s okay, Cupcake. I love reliving the happy memory of my late husband anyway.”

 Then, he announces that the Q&A session is over and that he will start painting now.

Julie suddenly has reservations. And for a moment she has the urge to just bolt when Juan asks her to take her clothes off. Juan is understanding. He waits patiently until Julie can gather up her courage to do it. He also lets her know that if she decides to cancel he won’t mind at all. Julie allows herself to think for several moments.

She does not look at Juan when she begins to discard her clothes, then Juan asks her to sit on a chair and pose a certain way. When she finds courage to stare at him, she sees the same neutral expression on his face. His pupils are not dilated which is usually a sign of lust. Even when his eyes roam her body, it’s clear that he does that to study the curve of her body for the painting and not because the oxytocin hormone in his brain tells him to do so. Julie soon relaxes in her seat and lets him do the work.

.

The money she earns from Juan is enough to last for three days. She thought it might be enough for a week but she is still grateful nonetheless. She definitely has to try harder to look for a job because Juan won’t need her for another 7 days.

.

On Wednesday evening, The electricity company decides to shut off the electricity in her apartment because she's behind on the bills. She almost fumes. She also has been trying not to bump into her landlord but today he goes up to confront her. She has been yelled at for a solid 20 minutes, and it's only been a few minutes after he's gone when the electricity company decides to make her mood even worse. At this point, Julie almost has to resist the urge to scream in frustration. Why can't any of these people understand someone in her position. It's also been two days since she visited Juan and she has been trying to spend as little money as she could. Only relies on bread for herself just so she will still have money left to last longer. She has literally tried every shop in this area but no one would hire her. So, this promulgation thing is really legit, then. The more she thinks about it, the more baffled she becomes. He is turning the whole city against her because she’s bruised his ego by turning him down. If that does not make him the biggest spoiled brat in the universe, then she does not know what does.

.

Julie begins to make it a habit of hers to walk aimlessly for hours before she'd eventually go back to her apartment. All the time she doesn't know where she is going or how long she plans to walk. She just doesn't see a point in sitting around doing nothing. Actually she itches to do something, to work. She even can't find anything at home to fiddle with. She is running out of options.

It's decided: she'll have no choice but to resort to begging. Julie feels her heart lurch in worry. She has been in harsh circumstances before, but none of them come close to what she currently experiences. everything pales in comparison to this. She practically lives more and more precariously from one day to the next, never knowing where her next meal is coming from. She has never found herself in a situation where she has the entire city against her and that she literally has no moves left. Begging is embarrassing, not to mention demeaning. There's no art of begging; you can't beg gracefully. Just like you know there's no art of snorting gracefully, doesn't matter if you are the Queen of England. But even as her situation is getting bleaker every day, she still has hope she will never resort to this. 

Julie is so lost in her thought she does not hear a car approach her.

When her peripheral vision catches a black SUV, her head turns at the same time someone rolls the window down. Her face turns sour in a nano-second when she sees Dean.

She can’t believe he actually has the nerve to show his face after what he did. With anger-driven determination, she walks faster.

She speeds up her pace when she hears the car door being opened and slammed shut behind her. No voice is heard from behind but she knows he is following her, so she walks even faster. But as luck would have it he has longer legs and he catches up with her at last.

He grabs her wrist and she is immediately turned around, facing the bane of her existence finally.

“What do you want?!” she asks brusquely.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asks, ignoring her question already.

“Avoiding you.” She says, refusing to look at him. His grip is so tight on her wrist she is sure she’ll get bruises later. She tries wriggling her wrist out of his grasp but he won’t budge. He wears sunglasses that are so so reflective they send her reflection straight back at her. If Julie wasn't so consumed by anger, she'd think they make him quite imposing.

“Still looking for a job?” he asks tauntingly. There is a hint of amusement in his voice. How this man can be such a heartless asshole is staggering to her.

“None of your business.” She says curtly. “Let me go.”

He ignores her and smirks, “If you didn't play so hard to get, none of this would've happened."

The anger has finally reaches a boiling point and with her free hand, she mars his face with a loud smack.

He curses at the unexpected blow and groans in pain, letting go of his grip on her wrist.

Julie is not satisfied yet though. She does not give him time to recover before another slap hits him. This time she aims at his nose.

He lets out a string of curse and brings up a hand to his nose. His free hand catches hers when she is about to grant him with the third blow. He is quick to catch her other hand. She tries to release his hold on her but he is bigger and definitely way stronger.

“Just fuck off, Dean.” She still adamantly tries to release his hold on her, even trying to bite his hand.

"Alright, I've had enough." Dean says before turning his head and signalling for someone to come out.

Julie's eyes widen and her throat goes dry as an immaculately dressed, extremely big, muscular, angry looking man striding toward them. he takes hold of her dutifully and effortlessly drags her to his car.

Julie yells for her life.

They ignore her screaming. The man throws her in the backseat, the car door slammed almost instantly. She doesn't have enough time to grapple with what's going on when Dean is suddenly besides her. With a stiff command, the driver starts the car. She tries for the door but it's locked.

"Where are you taking me? Are you kidnapping me? Oh God--

"Calm down. I'm just taking you out to eat." Dean says. He doesn't seem to be bothered by the frantic hysterical woman next to him.

She whirls to face him. "And you didn't think to just ask like a normal person?"

He shrugs, eyes facing forward. "Seems easier."

"Stop the car."

"No."

"Stop the car!"

"Just calm down or I'll put you in the trunk." He snaps. Dean turns to look at her, even with sunglasses on, she can tell he is getting annoyed. Julie's eyes meet his bodyguard's in the rearview mirror and his menacing gaze is ready to take commands. What with the sudden bitterness that fills Dean tone and the possible danger she might be in right now, she keeps her mouth shut. 

Julie tries to calm her heartbeat down. Her eyes glances around looking for something that might provoke danger. a knife, a gun or maybe a bomb. Thankfully, there doesn't seem to be any weapon in sight. At least from where she can see.

.

After a slow antagonizing fifteen minute ride, the car pulls up to a seemingly high-end restaurant.

"Be a good girl and don't try to run. All we're gonna do is have dinner." His words are uttered both like a warning and an order. He doesn't wait for her answer before he takes hold of her wrist and leads her out and into the restaurant.

Julie is silent. A little more than surprised that he is actually treating her for dinner. It completely juxtaposes his previous behavior. But she has a feeling even the seemingly harmless invitation won't end well for her. Something is definitely up. She thinks maybe she ought to run, but it's been three days since she ate a proper meal other than bread. She hasn't eaten anything either today. Now unemployed, everything seems pricey to her, even a slice of bread and she needs to use what little money she has left really wisely. Her hunger overrules her instinct to bolt. She scolds herself inwardly because she's probably landing herself in inevitable trouble he's planning for her, all for a taste of a hot meal.

The staff recognize him the moment he is gliding, yes gliding into the restaurant. The maitre d' greets him by his name. She follows him upstairs and to an outside sitting area.

Julie hates how expensive restaurants serve tiny portions at steep prices. She proceeds to order soup, chicken, pastelon and even shrimp.

Dean doesn’t order anything. Merely sitting there in front of her with his arms crossed. Watching her the whole time. He's taken off his sunnies the moment he got out of the car. And now she secretly wishes he'd put them back on. It's better than having to look at him directly in the eye and knowing he'll probably watch her eating.

Speaking of... She can’t believe she is just about to eat dinner with the person who got her fired. Whatever game he's playing, she doesn't want to participate. She'll just eat her dinner and then leave.

For a long moment he seems content to just watch her. If he thinks that his stare is intimidating then he is seriously off beam, Julie thinks.

She still feels like punching him but then again she’d probably end up not eating the food she has ordered.

The moment she walked into the restaurant, she knew she would've to put up with whatever humiliation he probably had planned for her. But to her surprise, he just continues to stare at her. He hasn’t even uttered a single word since they walked in to the restaurant. She still has no idea why he's doing this. She doesn't believe it's a way to make up for getting her fired. She snorts at the notion.

Dean raises an eyebrow at her. Apparently she let out an audible snort. Julie drops her gaze, suddenly finding the cutlery on the table interesting to watch.

“You lied to me.” He starts.

She freezes in her seat. None of them has spoken a word since they sat down. What's he on about?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You said you were seeing someone.”

Oh. Right.

She is about to reply when he carries on. “And that's a lie.” He continues.

She wants to deny it, but he's probably done some digging and she doesn't want to get caught in a blatant lie. "Like it's any of your business."

"You're my business." He tells her seriously.

Whatever she expected to come out of his mouth, it certainly wasn't that. And she doesn't like the sound of it. "What makes me  _your_ business?!"

"I find you very interesting." He shrugs like it's obvious.

Julie rolls her eyes. She doesn't find that statement flattering in the least bit. The way he said it is demeaning, as if she was a new shiny object on a display and not a human being.

"Well, then tell me what I should do to make me less interesting. I'll gladly do that."

A satisfied smirk is plastered on his face. “How about you tell me why you were acting like a scared virgin that day? Wait, are you?”

Her first instinct is to deny that, but she's been asked the same question by the customers at Hopeless. While she thought confirming their suspicion might get them to stop, what always happened was the exact opposite. It seems like all men have funny ideas about virgins. “No." she admits. "I was just not interested. Still am not.”

His smirk turns into a lazy smile. “So, what have you been up to since you got fired?"

Julie would've bitch-slapped him if she wasn't so hungry.

"When I'm not busy applying for a job, I'd usually wonder what kind of black hole occupying the place where your heart should be."

He lets out a low humming sound, telling her he's amused. "I'll tell you it's not something worth thinking over."

"Why are you doing this?" She blurts out before she can help herself. She hates what he has done to her and the fact that he is now buying her dinner doesn't provide some kind of reassurance whatsoever, if anything it only makes everything more suspicious.

There is a long silence and then he smiles. it's eerie, and something in her mind suggests it's not going to be good.

"Your future is looking dim." He says after a while.

She gives a nonchalant shrug. She knows that, but she knows better than to admit that out loud. "And your point being?"

"I have a proposition for you."

Yes, it definitely is not going to be good. She can practically hear her heart sink.

Thankfully, the food finally comes and she distracts her mind by digging into her meal, ignoring the infuriating man sitting across her. She eats as much as she can. Julie is conscious of the man in front of her, watching her eat. She doesn't care if the way she eats looks un-lady-like. Dean isn’t the kind of person she wants to impress anyway. He doesn't bother her while she eats and she doesn't need to look up to know his eyes are still pretty much glued on her. It doesn’t take long before she is feeling full though. Having been deprived of proper meal for the last couple days somehow has made her digestive system unable to consume too much food.

"Now let's talk about my proposition."

Dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, she finishes off her drink and gets up.

"Not interested. But thank you for the food."

Julie doesn't wait for his answer and turns around. She walks until she reaches the door leading up to the stairs to the first floor. But when the guard locks his eyes with someone behind her, she knows Dean has instructed him to not allow her to pass. 

Her fingers clenching her hands into tight fists. She feels her nails biting into her palms and drawing out blood, but she doesn't wince. She knew his supposed munificence wasn't without a price. He's probably planning to take down her pride. One thing is for sure, she is not going to get down on her knees and beg, or lick his boots.

Footsteps then trudges toward her way, and then she feels a hand rest against her bare arm, and a brush of hair that is not her own against her ear, then something soft. His mouth. But she doesn't turn around. "You haven't even heard about what I have to offer."

"Somehow I doubt it'll work in my favor. So, pass."

"Oh, but it will in mine." She can feel his smirk against her ear. "I can help you, you know."

Help her, Julie almost snorts at the irony after everything that he's done to her. "Here I thought you're trying to show a sense of decency."

He lets out a chuckle. As he trails a finger down her arm, she realizes bitterly he's not different from other men with one-track mind. She already has a good feeling what he has in mind, but the question still leaves her mouth nonetheless.

"What do you want?" She asks with a sigh.

"Come home with me tonight."

Julie lets out a mocking laugh. And in that moment, she shrugs him off her, whirling around to face him. "Bold of you to assume I'd even think for a second to agree to that. Or should I say dumb." 

Dean stares back at her. Unyielding. "That kind of sass won't get you anywhere but only prolong your old biddy's suffering.”

Julie tries to hide the surprise at the fact that he knows about her grandmother. But from all these bits of information about Dean Polly has thrown at her, it should come as no surprise.

She is seething. Angry that he knows about her life.

“You really think it'll end up great for her to be cooped up in a damp apartment and without medication? She's not going to last through the winter at this rate.”

Dean has turned from an annoying nuisance to a manipulative bastard. She thinks bitterly.

"She'll be ok." She says, though her voice lacks conviction. Julie finally breaks the staring contest. She can't look at his eyes any longer. She knows there's truth in his words. She can't take care of her grandmother while unemployed. But she won't admit to that in front of him. Like hell she will.

He takes this moment to take a step closer. "Just one night and I'll take care of it. You'll have food, and all the bills and medication for your grandma will be paid for."

"Not at the cost of my self-respect." she says and turns to leave, not wanting to be near this despicable human being any longer, but remember the stupid guard.

"That annoying pride must go or your old biddy is going to suffer for it."

Julie tries to her best to keep the resentment out of her expression, though he probably doesn't see it.

"Please just let me go." She sighs. The words aren't uttered with so much energy like before. her voice almost sounds weak. But she actually feels angry. She's been feeling angry a lot in the last couple days but this is the angriest that she's been. It's the new overwhelmed kind of anger. she's once again found herself in the situation beyond her control.

To her surprise, the guard nods at Dean and opens the door for her.

Before she can leave, Dean steps forward, catching her hand in his and slips a small card into her hand, “Let me know when you change your mind.” He says. Julie doesn’t miss the obvious confidence in his words when he uses the word ‘when’ instead of ‘if’.

Julie doesn't look back and keeps on walking. Thankfully, Dean doesn't follow her. She runs back to her apartment and locks herself in her room, slamming the door shut behind her and throwing herself on the bed. She wants to cry, but she also wants to bristle. So, she ends up punching the pillow. She doesn't know why he's doing this. But maybe this has been his end game all along. This is his way of humiliating her. Instead of making her beg on her knees, he'll just take her self-respect. This is practically bordering on prostitution, the one thing she swears she never gets herself into. She used to believe everyone in the world never has ill intentions, at least to someone they never meet. But her lack of judgment has obviously blinded her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t come up with the patron and promilgation thing. It’s an idea by Camnz from one of her works called Utterly Despicable. Go read it if you are a Dramione fan!


	4. Little Girl Shouldn't Wander Off Alone

Julie lasts three days without calling Dean. Her nana’s condition is getting worse and she can’t bear knowing her grandmother suffering from pain. Add to that the fact that they’ll soon be kicked out on the street only sways her decision. Her nana always tries to ensure her she's fine, but Julie never buys it. Her nana is in constant pain but she never shows any outward sign of it, which only makes her feels worse.

She collects the courage to call him. It has been a short phone call where he told her that she would be expected at 8 pm for dinner.

The whole conversation has sounded formal in her ears that for a moment she thought he might be having a second thought about it, but then he told her there would be a car picking her up later. He didn’t bother asking her address either. At this point, she is not even surprised that he knows where she lives.

Julie feels like she wants to throw up. It’s better than being on the street. 

Someone knocks on her door sometime around five and gives her a package. It contains a black strappy bodycon dress with a plunge neckline and curved hem. There is also a pair of matching heels to go with. She guesses he wants her to wear them tonight. The dress looks pretty but she doesn’t bother to try the dress on, though.

All day she’s been feeling dejected. She has officially reached the lowest point in her life. She never once wishes for herself to find herself bartering her moral value for food or money to pay the rent. She knows there are others out there who are in the same position as she is, where prostitution is the last resort. It doesn’t make her feel better in the least bit. At least she doesn't have to be on the street to ply the trade. But she still can't stomach the thought, and the prostitutes at her second jobs only validate her discomfort.

Maybe it is the fact that it’s Dean Winchester that makes it so much worse. The Wayne Mill Captain and to quote Polly: has always been associated with the word ‘dangerous’. But then again, he has promised to take care of everything and he is capable of doing it.

No matter how hard she tries, she can’t find something to lighten her mood today. Usually, she would always find a distraction even in the harsh circumstances, but today there is nothing. She really has no idea what to expect of him tonight. He could spend the entire time insulting her and if he behaved disrespectfully, she would just bolt. But she bets on anything that she won’t get through the evening unscathed.

She gets back to the apartment a couple of hours before. Her grandmother makes a comment about her wearing the black dress and already suspects it to be true what she must be thinking. Her nana is trying to convince her that she is managing just fine but all it does is convince her more that she has to do this.

The dress itself fits her perfectly. She has no idea how he knows her size, but it’s the perfect fit. She has a feeling that this is probably the nicest dress that has been seen in this building. Since the occupants of this apartment are all pretty much in the same reduced circumstances as she is, it’s understandable. The dress earns looks when Julie walks down the stairs and to the front of building. She hates these knowing looks.

The same black SUV is waiting for her. When she opens the back door, there is no Dean in there, only the same driver from that day when Dean bought her dinner. The whole ride is silent. The driver has not uttered a single word since she hopped in the car. This allows her time to think and contemplates more. The thought of jumping out of a moving car crosses her mind twice during the entire ride, but then every time she is actually gathering up the courage to call it off, she remembers her grandma’s condition and that she is doing it for her.

She knows she should hold onto her moral value, but apparently the situation she is in right now isn’t something that can be barred by this driving force. She has tried to tell herself that this is a necessity. Her moral value would only went out the window if she was doing this by choice. At least that’s what she thinks to be true to make her feel better about herself.

 .

After passing the seemingly long driveway shrouded by dense thicket of 50-foot tall trees, the car finally pulls up to a final circular driveway, and in front of a huge chateau-style mansion. The front of the estate boasts imported stone, waterfront property, Venetian plaster, and what seems like a hand painted mural. She can’t really inspect at night and because she doesn’t really want to. The mansion is definitely notable for its decorative architecture. And judging by the extremely tall wrought iron gate that serves as the main entrance to the mansion and the fact that the manor sits about a quarter mile back, this must be a very private area.

She guesses she should come inside, then. She slowly walks up the curved marble steps and to the door. She is allowing herself to contemplate for a moment when the big front door swings open.

Julie is met at the door by a middle-aged woman dressed in maid uniform. She gives a perfunctory curtsey and introduces herself as Ingrid. Julie knows she must not be an American because she greets her in a thick foreign accent similar to Russian, not that she can pinpoint exactly how that accent sounds.

“The Captain is already waiting for you at the reception room.” She informs her and motions to come inside.

Julie doesn’t like to exaggerate but she can feel the atmosphere changes as soon as she steps into the mansion foyer. The first thing she sees is the lavish double staircase and then the beautiful suspended gold chandelier. Maybe it’s a good thing that Dean sent her the dress. If she’d come here wearing what she has in her wardrobe, she would definitely feel out of place.

Dean is sitting on one of the chairs with his feet on the table. He remains where he is when he sees her. With a wave of his hand, Ingrid is immediately out of the room.

“You came.” He says. “Not gonna lie. I thought you’d back out”

“You said that like I have any other choice left.”

He smirks. “But you can still look at this as another choice available.”

“No. It’s a necessity that you’re currently taking advantage of.”

His smirk grows wider. "That's one way to look at it.”

Julie glares at him. And as his keen, unnerving eyes return her stare calmly, levelly, it reminds her of something he had held onto at the restaurant.

His arrogance.

it's obvious from the way he cocks his head slightly, visible in the green eyes... confident he was going to win.

And with her standing a few feet away from him now, inside his house... No. She is surrendering to necessity. Admitting that she lost will only worsen his already swelled ego.

Dean rises from his seat and walks over to her, and for a moment she is noticeably bracing herself before he speaks again.

“Let’s have dinner. I can only assume you must be hungry by now. For such a little girl, you sure have the appetite of a 200 pound kid.”

Julie narrows her eyes. She knows he is referring to when they had dinner the first time. It’s only been two minutes and the taunting has already begun. Though, he is entirely accurate.

“I have also had one hot dinner delivered to your old biddy.” He adds.

That’s a gesture she didn’t expect. “Thank you.” She manages, although she realizes that he is just fulfilling his end of the bargain.

Dean takes her hand and her eyes jerk down before she allows them to. This is the first time they actually really touch and he is doing it so casually like it’s the most normal thing in the world. He leads her into the dining room. The smell coming from it is making her mouth water. The unmistakable smell of roast potatoes, roast chicken, green beans as well as a nice rich thick gravy.

“Champagne?”

She nods. He pops the cork expertly and pours two glasses. So far this all isn't what she expected. he's being strangely polite and behaving in a calm way but then she also reminds herself that the night is young.

“Let’s toast.” Dean says as he hands her a glass.

“Let’s not.” She says quietly.

“To a mutually beneficial agreement.”

Julie rolls her eyes, and takes a sip of the drink. She enjoys the feel of the cool bubbles on her tongue. She isn't necessarily a fan of champagne but this will have to do for now. Truthfully something stronger would do just fine to ward off her thoughts, but she doesn't want to get alcohol in her system this evening.

“Do you live alone in this house?” she can’t help but ask. So far, she has only seen his maid, and guards at the gate occupying this enormous mansion.

“No. My little brother lives here. But I told him to make himself scarce for the evening.”

Julie blushes at the implication and regrets having asked him the question.

“Little?”

“Not so little. If you recall, the tall guy I went to Hopeless with at the time— that’s my brother. The one with Disney princess hair.”

She remembers. And she also remembers that his brother displayed a friendlier look than he did that day. She wonders if his brother shares the same personality as him.

“Oh.”

“Let’s eat. I’m sure you have waited long enough to get your greedy little hands on the grub.”

Dean sits at the end of the table and Julie follows suit beside him. She doesn’t like the way he speaks to her, but his overall behavior this evening is still more polite compared to that day at the restaurant. He probably senses her uncertainty and realizes this whole situation makes her ill at ease. Behaving like an asshole would surely get her to leave. he's right though, she would.

They have dinner in silence. The food is tasteful but she can't bring herself to savor it. This all just feels wrong. And she feels awkward eating in this dress. It shows off a big deal of her cleavage and she can't make herself look decent sitting in her seat, no matter how hard she tries.

Her thought keeps wandering to the main event of the evening, it causes nervousness and not just a slight niggle. It’s killing her appetite, and with so little food in her stomach she’s already feeling full. She isn’t sure she can do it. The instinct to bolt is getting stronger by the minute. She just has to grit her teeth and tough it out. It'll be over quick.

As if to turn the knife a little, Dean suddenly gets up and reaches for her hand. In that moment, her nervousness turns into a full blown anxiety. He is leading her out of the dining room, towards the grand staircase. It feels like the most bizarre thing, touching Dean Winchester. On purpose. The one her co-workers have warned her about, the one that got her fired and has made the entire city to hate her. And they are about to do much more of it.

Each step she takes is followed by the quickly building feeling of reservation. She tries to calm herself but fails miserably. This all just seems wrong. She wants to tug her hand away from his hold.

Julie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. trying to pull herself together. Bite the bullet, she chides herself.

She reminds herself that she isn’t walking to her doom. Why should this unorthodox act frustrate her so much? Many women have done this since the beginning of time. She tries to reason. At least this is a one time deal. She looks up at the ceiling. Trying to calm herself more, closing her eyes and heaving three deep breaths.

Dean keeps on leading her down a hallway until he stops in front of a door and opens it.

The bed at the center of the room is the first thing she sees.

“Dean, I’m not sure I—“

“You have to.” He says, a serious look in his eyes. “You said you had no other choice. So, bite the bullet.”

“This is wrong.”

“There's nothing wrong about this.” He says, pulling her inside and closing the door. “It's natural.”

Julie grits her teeth.

“There's nothing natural about this!” Julie raises her tone, arguing with him seems to ease her anxiety a bit. Maybe this is what she needs; engaging in an all-out brawl with him.

“Does it really matter?” he says calmly and circles his hands around her waist, pulling her to him. “You are acting like a scared virgin again.”

“Because this isn't right.”

“You said it's necessity.” He debates. His strangely calm, unaffected demeanor only  annoys her further. "And necessity is never wrong." He continues, staring at her gold-freckled eyes that are trying to show false defiance. Her persistence almost looks cute to him.

“This isn’t necessity for you.” She accuses.

“Still I don’t think this is wrong.”

“No, because you are the one taking advantage.”

“Absolutely.” He smiles and caresses her face. Bending, he captures her lips. Not allowing another word to come out of those delectable lips of hers. He can feel panic in the kiss. It’s clear she is very nervous. This revelation only spurs him on.

Her eyes close instantly at the sudden attack. It’s a chaste kiss, a small pull of softness really. The surprisingly sweet reverence of his mouth’s touch is something she didn’t expect. Once, twice, three times and then he tilts away slightly. He keeps his contact light and teasing, his kiss is soft and tentative, pulling away and dipping back in as if testing, over and over. His tongue darting out to lick her lips and to coax them to part for him. Still she doesn’t kiss him back.

Dean knows just how to get her to response, however. When he dives back in, his mouth isn’t as innocent as before. This time, his hand that is on her chin moves up to grab her hair and tilt her head back with a bit of force. She gasps, and his tongue quickly takes the opportunity to enter her mouth. He leverages them into a deep, melting, open-mouthed kiss. His lips play different rhythms and pressures. Dean is obviously very good at what he is doing  because he is kissing her the way like no one ever did. First, there is nipping and teasing, then there is hot slathering across one another, then back to gentle nibbling. He is showing her every touch that makes a kiss good. Julie shivers at the unexpected desire as he ravishes her mouth. She is strangely compelled by a yearning she has no will to deny, she timidly begins to kiss him back and lets instinct to guide her actions.

He pulls her towards him, forcing her body closer and her hands suddenly go up to clutch at his sides. She tastes amazing and the awkward moves of her lips that must be the results of hesitation and apparent innocence are making him hard.

Dean finally pulls away for air. But his mouth quickly nibbles down her throat. Her natural scent is alluring. honeyed sweet and somehow he knows it's all hers, no some artificial substance in the mix.

When he bites down over her pulse, she lets out a whimpering gasp that has him instantly going hard.

He can still sense her withdrawal, though. As if she couldn’t control her honest reactions and she was still trying to not give in. He can’t have that. He wants her aching and begging for him.

She feels his other hand moves up from her waist to her shoulder. Catching the little strap and sliding it off her shoulder, his other hand soon follows.

With an insistent tug her dress pools at her feet leaving her in her underwear and heels. He presses soft kisses all along the shell of her right ear, then his lips travel lower again, running his mouth over her pulse. He kisses and suckles over every inch as he gets on his knees before her to pull her lingerie from her legs. He grabs her left leg, swinging it up onto his right shoulder. She automatically balances herself by reaching out and bracing herself against him instinctively. Dean presses his face between her thighs to feast on her pussy with his lips and tongue.

“Perfect.” He murmurs as he tastes and feasts. Loving her honey-salt flavor and musky scent. He swipes his tongue from the bottom of her vulva all the way up to her tiny nub, and then latches on and starts sucking.

He looks up to see her reaction, but she has her eyes shut and is worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Her embarrassment is obvious. She gasps when he plunges two fingers inside her while continues suckling her clit.

She can’t stop the soft mewling rolling out of her mouth. Her fingers tangle in his short hair, her nails raking his scalp.

“Oh my god.” It’s getting harder to ignore the quickly building pleasure that he is adamantly evoking in her. Not when he makes a wide swipe with his tongue on her slit before going back to her clit over and over. Her will starts eroding away and she begins to surrender to his expertise with shameless cries of pleasure. Her moans are getting more pronounced. Her body craves though. She has been so caught up with running away and taking care of her grandmother and working constantly that she can’t remember the last time she got laid… she needs this orgasm more than breathing. Her body reacts honestly to his attentions with active small thrusts of her hips. His hands grip her bum tightly when her knees start to give out. The pressure in her belly grows as his fingers curl against that spot inside her, making her cry out. She shudders as she comes, her hips bucking against his mouth.

His tongue continues to work at her, his fingers keep rubbing inside her until she is peaking again, so shortly after the first time.

“ _Oh_ … _my god!_ _Dean!_ ” Her attempt of not going to moan his name fails as shockwave of pleasure makes her senseless.

His fingers slide from within her and his tongue laves over her clit a few more times until she is pushing him away, gasping.

“It’s… too much.” She rasps, curling her hand around his neck and drawing him up. Had his hand not been holding her hip, she would have fallen.

He catches her immediately and lifts her up into his arms, capturing her mouth and sharing her essence, thrusting his tongue in and out. She makes an approving purring noise at the flavor and he lets out a growl. Most girls think this part is gross, but not her. The feel of her naked body against his clothed one, her soft golden skin and the way she twins her arms around his neck, he needs to have his fill soon.

He moves them with distinct purpose to press her down into his bed. As he divests himself of his own clothing quickly, he studies her. Dean will never admit it out loud but she is magnificent. With her breasts exposed and reaching toward him, her slim legs rubbing together shyly. She looks like a strange, beautiful creature. Naked and golden.

He leans over her, inching between her legs to lay his aching length between her lower lips. He kisses her and slides down to her opening, grabbing her leg and wrap it around his hip. Both groan as he presses into her, but it’s pain-induced cry that is wrung out of her. She isn’t a virgin as he feels no hymen. But in that moment he knows, as she shoves at him, that she probably doesn’t have sex very often because she is so fucking tight. It’s heavenly pushing through her sleek, humid depths. He shushes her and keeps moving inside her, ignoring her obvious discomfort. Julie wiggles a little, trying to get accustomed to the feeling. He is really big and she feels uncomfortably stretched.

It bothers her that he is ignoring her plea to slow down. But then, with each thrust of his hips, she finds that she seems to mind less and less. And soon, she begins to feel less pain and it’s starting to get better, until she is once again writhing against him, needing release.

Her cry of pain quickly turning into little cries of pleasure. her tiny panting breaths blasting across the skin of his shoulder are becoming his undoing.

With strong, full thrusts and rolling hips, their bodies intimately close, his mouth kissing hers. He uses great discipline to hold back the tide of his orgasms though, wanting her to find hers first, relentlessly surging into her body at fast rhythm.

“I need— _Oh_!“ that is just about as much coherent sentence she can utter before the mounting pleasure reaches its peak and she comes, he feels her shaking, pulsing body, tastes her cries of pleasure and breathes in the scent of her heady sexual release. A moment after her womb’s final tremor, he thrusts twice more and follows her over. He falls over the edge of passion with a powerful shudder.

They are both breathing hard. Both exhausted and replete. She feels like she ought to jump up, and out of his embrace. But her eyes are heavy and once the rush of adrenaline has slowed down she falls asleep immediately. The sound of her strong pounding heart and her warm skin eventually lull him to his rest too.

.

Julie wakes with a start in the middle of the night, a sense of unease bringing her to consciousness. Something isn’t right. Memory crashes over her like waves of shock. Then, her stomach drops out and her heart stops beating. she isn’t on the pill and they’ve had unprotected sex.

_Oh God._

How can she be so stupid?

Julie wiggles out from under him, trying to jar him as little as possible. Where are her panties? Oh well, it doesn’t matter. She just needs to get out of here.

She doesn’t realize that Dean has woken up until he sits up and grabs her hips, yanking her back on the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to go. When we were… you didn’t— you know.”

“I’ll have Ingrid give you the shot or morning after pill tomorrow. Go back to sleep.” It’s clear that his mind is still flogged from a drugging sleep.

“She can’t give me the shot. She is not a nurse.” 

“She is qualified. Shut up and go back to sleep.”

“I’ll take care of this myself.” She counters and starts to get up but his hand on her waist prevents her movement.

“Good luck walking for 2 miles to find a cab or a bus at this time of the night.” He murmurs, “Joel will drive you home tomorrow.” He adds. She guesses he is referring to the man driving her here.

Julie is quiet and stares at the ceiling. When he pulls her into his arms, she settles a little stiffy about him.

In the morning, Dean will scold himself for what he is doing right now, letting his hookup stay all the way till morning. But this is the best sleep he’s had in ages. Her warm body and soft bits make sleep come easily for him. When he buries his nose in her hair, he sighs contently as her unique natural smell envelopes him. he’s never encountered anything quite like it, but it smells like everything he has ever wanted. Other girls reek of strong hair products and perfume, which after a while and having been mixed with sweat and smell of sex, just smell bad. Julie’s distinct, natural scent to him is honeyed sweet.

Sleep comes easily after that.

.

In the morning, Dean wakes earlier than her. He rises up suddenly, looking toward the bedroom door. He has somehow moved his position sometime in his sleep and has managed to use her right breast as a pillow, his arms wrapping about her waist. His sudden movement wakes her up too.

“There is someone at the door.” He announces in a very husky and dry voice, his hair sticking up from his head in every direction.

He rises from the bed and puts on his black shirt and briefs.

“Stay.” He commands before moving towards the door. She gather the sheet to cover her chest but Dean does not open the door all the way. She doesn’t know who he is talking to but she can hear faint murmur of _girl_ and Dean’s curt reply: _shut up_.

Dean closes the door again and turns around. He walks over to the bathroom and walks out no more than two minutes later. No longer only in his briefs. “I’ll inform Ingrid to give you what you need. Wait here and don’t go wandering around. I need to take care of something. You understand?”

She wants to say something but somehow his authoritative voice makes her nod her head.

So, the whole civilized attitude is done then. Julie remains in her position for a few moments after he has closed the door.

Her mind goes back to last night. She can’t deny that it was the best sex she’s ever had. Dean was surprisingly considerate of her needs and wasn’t one of those selfish guys who only think of achieving their own orgasm during sex. Though, there was a moment where he completely ignored her pained plea to slow down. 

Julie begins to retrieve her panties and her dress. Where is Ingrid? She just wants to get out of here.

Ingrid has yet to come to the room ten minutes later and Julie is getting impatient. She is itching to get out of his room. Maybe just a peek of the hallway won’t hurt. She walks to the door and turns the doorknob slowly, opening the door carefully. Her head pops out the door to inspect the hallway. There is no one in sight. She doesn’t even hear anything. Where did Dean go?

Julie simply doesn’t want to wait in his room any longer. The reason she has stayed the night was because she wouldn’t be able to find a ride home. Besides, she can take care of that other thing on her own.

There’s nobody in sight in the mansion foyer too. Julie begins to descend the grand staircase determinedly. She is inwardly praying that she doesn’t run into Dean or anyone on the way out. Even the seemingly empty mansion is giving off a bad vibe.

She is nearing the last three steps of the stairs when a loud burst of sound is heard from what seems to be a distant location. It alerts her for there is no mistaking the sound of gun fire.

Julie just stands there for several moments and waits for any subsequent noise. Several heart beats later, she hears a series of screams but it could also be anything else. The sound is muffled. Despite the beating of her heart beginning to accelerate, curiosity gets the better of her and she turns left and moves closer to the source of the noise.

Her eyes spot an open door and as she keeps walking closer to what seems to be a study, the muffled noise is getting clearer.

Her instinct tells her to run, but her steps keep pushing her forward into the study. Julie pokes her head inside the room and finds no one inside. The unmistakably pained voices, yes it’s plural now, are coming from this room, however.

As her eyes scan the room, she notices a slightly ajar mahogany door on the other end of the room.

Again, she would probably regret it later because her curiosity overrules her instinct. She unwisely and foolishly moves closer to the door and tries to hide herself from being seen when she stands right next to it.

“Spare us, Captain! Please! We are sorry. Just give us a second chance! We won’t disappoint you again. Please don’t do this! We need this job – I love this job!”

“Of course you do. Everybody needs work. But I’m not a fucking charity.” there is no mistaking the darkness in Dean’s voice and Julie feels her stomach flip.

“We are s-sorry, Captain.” Another voice pleading and stuttering as the tone in his voice rattles in her ears in a tone so fragile. Julie cringes at that.

She tentatively peeks her head through the crack of the door creaking open slightly. The sight that is displayed before her eyes is straight nightmare. The room is dimly lit but she can make out of everything and everyone in it. The room almost looks like a cell, her eyes catch an unconscious body sprawled on the ground, blood seemingly dripping from his head. Then, her eyes drift to two men kneeling beside the already dead man, handcuffed, badly bruised, bloody, covered in dirt and clothes torn. Dean is standing in front of them with gun in his hand. She realizes his brother is there too, hovering over the cuffed men and the other guy that was also at Hopeless that day. Three other men she’s never seen before are in the room. There are a lot more people here than she’s anticipated.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore. I even gave you two more weeks and you still turned out with shit.”

“Please, we just need a little more time—

“Yeah, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Let us go and we will prove it to you!”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will set you free,” Dean says coldly.

Before the two poor men can even blink, Dean shoots them both in the head.

The shock jolts through Julie’s vein the second she sees both of them collapse onto the floor, blood dripping from their heads. Their bodies completely drain from life. And the floor is quickly covered in a red gooey liquid.

Her stomach twists in horror and her hands quickly coming up to cover her mouth as she tries hard not to scream.

She can’t breathe, can’t move and can’t even tear her eyes away from the sight before her. Her knees suddenly feel like jelly. She stands there immobile, her feet feel like they’d been cemented onto the floor she stands on.

All she can do in this moment is curse herself for being stupid as to have followed the voice. She is inside the house of a dangerous person and she should’ve known better than to follow a gunshot noise. Nothing good is ever going to come from the sound of a gunshot.

Julie is inwardly cursing herself to prevent herself from making any noise. She curses her life out to its fullest. At least, she is quiet that way and she can curse what has already been cursed.

When she looks up, she curses herself more because Dean is looking her way, his eyes unreadable and in that moment fear instantly takes over her.

Her throat goes dry as she begins to shake her head, trying to tell him that she didn’t see anything and starting to walk backwards. One step back and two more and it seems like her attempt doesn’t work for Dean averts his gaze from hers to his men around him, quickly whispering a few things to them and cocking his head to her direction. Before she knows it, two extremely bulky men begin striding towards her.

_Oh God._

She is definitely doomed this time.


	5. Nursery Rhyme

Julie hastily turns around and runs, away from the danger that is quickly coming towards her. She doesn’t want to die. She curses herself inwardly for being so stupid and having followed the voice earlier. She should’ve stayed in the room and waited for Ingrid. If she had, maybe Ingrid had already given her the shot and she would have been in her merry way out of this house.

She hasn’t even managed to get to the door in the study when someone grabs both her arms and pulls her towards him.

“No!”

Both giants ignore her desperate plea and drag her out of the study, up the stairs and to the direction of his room. She is gracelessly thrown inside, almost making her stumble to the floor. They quickly close the door and lock it from the outside.

“Let me out!” she tries desperately to turn the doorknob and as suspected, it’s locked. She bangs on the door over and over again. But no response. His henchmen are probably gone already.

her mind is searching for something to do. She looks around the room and walks over to the huge window on the other side.

There are two more of his men guarding the ground right under his room. Even if she decided to jump from the window, she would probably fracture her bones for it’s probably 30 feet above the ground.

Julie paces back and forth, trying to come up with ideas on how to escape this hellhole. She comes up with none. Her options are limited. And so she tries to calm her mind instead, but fails as the bitter disappointment is hitting home.

Not knowing what to do, she sits on the chair and stares at the wall. She waits and waits for Dean to barge into the room all upset and lead her to her doom finally. But the door remains closed.

Minutes passed and still Dean hasn’t returned to his room.

She does not know who the poor souls were, but whoever they were must’ve angered Dean because of something they did or maybe didn’t. The thought of her suffering the same fate as they did terrifies her. She doesn’t want to die. She wonders if she could elude him. Though, it seems to be damn near impossible seeing his house is now practically full of guards everywhere.

Where did all of them come from anyway? His house practically looked bare of occupants last night.

If she didn’t like Dean before and was wary of him, she is now full on terrified of him. The thought of getting killed keeps clouding her mind and won’t let her to calm down.

The sound of the doorknob being turned startles her. She braces herself to face angry Dean, but it’s Ingrid who enters the room.

She is carrying a tray of food in her hand.

“Where have you been?” the question is out of Julie’s mouth instantly.

“Captain told me to bring you breakfast as well. So, I prepared the food.” She says simply without looking at her and walks over to her, setting the tray on the table.

Ingrid averts her gaze to her and both only stare at each other for several moments.

“Well, eat it or he will get mad at both of us.”

“He won’t care. I—

“I know what you did. You should’ve stayed put.” She says indifferently.

Julie is now practically on the verge of tears.

Seeing the distressed look on her face softens her a bit, Ingrid suddenly bents down and puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Look, you don’t have to be so scared. Captain is not that— “ she cuts herself off, seeming to be looking for the right word. “As long as you don’t do anything that agitates him, you don’t have to worry about him hurting you.”

“He’s going to kill me.”

“He’s unpredictable.” The maid says simply.

 _Is that supposed to make me feel better._ She thinks. Julie wants to believe her but all she can manage is offer her a tight smile that almost looks like a grimace. The maid then proceeds to give her the required shot. It doesn’t take long. When Julie asks her if she can leave, Ingrid shakes her head and says that _the Captain_ does not allow her to leave yet.

She then gestures for her to eat the food on the tray before excusing herself. But Julie shakes her head. She does not feel the least bit hungry. Her anxiety seems to double up by the minute in anticipation.

.

Dean eventually returns to the room a few moments after Ingrid has left. Julie backs away from him as he starts towards her. She might be able to maintain some measure of self-control, but she’s too panicked to try and make her way to the door.

His eyes are scanning every inch of her. Like a predator watching its prey. If she could place obstacles between them.

“Dean—

Her sentence is cut off by her sudden intake of breath as she finds her wrist caught in a vice. Her body propelled around so that her back hit the wall. He traps her with his body quickly, leaving her no escape.

His expression is harsh, and the stare in his eyes clearly bodes ill. A hand snaking about the base of her throat without warning, another around her bare upper left arm. She gasps for breath, feeling her skin bruise under his fingers. A thigh insinuates itself between her thighs and she feels herself lifted slightly off the floor.

“What did I tell you earlier about wandering around the house?” the icy portents of his voice makes her shudder. It reverberates through her entire body, shaking away any coherent thought she may have formed. She couldn’t speak even if she knew how to respond.

She raises one hand to push him away but he grabs it and bends it back against the wall, making her gasp.

“I could snap your neck, Julie.”

Anxiety wells inside her at those words. There is no trace of hesitation in his words. No trace of uncertainty in the dark green of his eyes. Julie swallows thickly; panic begins to dim her vision. Her eyes widen like those of a caged animal.

This is the Dean Winchester she’s been warned about, dangerous, threatening, and violent. She can feel his anger wells off her in waves.

Tears burst to her eyes unchecked as she’s finally, truly realized and seen with her own eyes just how dangerous he really is. It’s not just some empty threat. And she now knows what he’s truly capable of. “I’m...” she holds back a sob. “I’m sorry.” She manages with much more strength than she realizes she possesses. Her voice trembling and the words are uttered so low he wouldn’t have heard her if he wasn’t standing so close to her.

“I know you are.”

Then, as though in a nightmare, he leans against her even more firmly, his breath ghosting over her ear. “But those words are always meaningless to me.” In a detached sort of way, she feels his lips against her earlobe.

She licks her dry lips, swearing her heart stopped. “I swear I’ll never tell anyone.” She whimpers as he places a single kiss, an actual kiss, against her jaw. An action that seems to belie his earlier harshness. Though, it’s not completely gone and still apparent with his hand closing around her throat.

“Ahh, you’re making the assumption that telling somebody – like _cops_ – means a threat to me, aren’t you?” he whispers, his eyes so close to hers that she could see flecks of emerald in the iris. “You really have no idea who I am, do you?” he continues in a lighter voice. He gives her throat one final squeeze before slowly easing up.

She feels a tear slip down her burning cheek, followed closely by a droplet of perspiration.

“Are you…” She holds back a sob. “Are you going to kill me?” 

“Do you want me to?” he places another single kiss directly atop her throbbing temple. It’s a surreal action, but through her overloading, racing mind, the thought occurs to her that this is probably how he’s harnessing his own tenuous control. This is what he does to keep from strangling her. She shakes against him as though frozen. “No, p-please.”

 

Dean takes in her small face, a crooked smirk curling his lips. Her fearful eyes are still bright despite the blatant terror clouding her pupils. The gold in her eyes almost tantalizing him. He can practically smell her fear, sweet and delicious. It’s confusing him for it’s almost exquisite to him. And he realizes his initial annoyance is now overridden by exhilaration. She flinches when a hand moves up to pull at her hair, pulling her head back until her neck is arched. She whimpers at the sharp motion.

Dean drinks in her pain, he could almost feel the delicious burn of the gold that over powers his initial anger. His face bends towards her, his lips drawing nearer to taste it fully, but she speaks instead, causing him to draw away.

“P-please, I’ll do anything… just don’t kill me.” She cries softly.

A flash of hunger passes across his stark visage at those words.

“Such a pretty little thing.”

He cocks his head to the side and whispers, “I don’t wanna hurt you.” He says, “but that doesn’t mean I’m never going to.” His thumb still pressed against the vein in her neck, massaging the delicate skin.

His demeanor is confusing her, one second he is violent and the next he is soothing the hurt of the bruises with his fingers and kissing her skin. It’s terrifying her. The gleaming intensity of his eyes is still present, though no longer swirling with power, but green and piercing.

 “Don’t kill me, please. My grandma— I’m all she’s got.” She says in a shaky tone.

Dean lets out a slight chuckle.

“Your ass is on the line here and she’s all you’re worried about?”

She closes her eyes and nods uselessly.

“I’ll set you free…” He whispers, and she is suddenly plagued by a paralysing flash of paranoia for those are the words he said to the poor men in the cell just before he ended their lives. “Only if you agree to come to me when I ask you to.”

It takes every ounce of strength she has to fight the lump in her throat.

“W-what?”

“Like I said, you’re such a pretty little thing…” he trails off, his eyes searching her face. “And I feel it’ll be such a waste to damage – well, _this_.” He gives her a brief once-over with a quick movement of his head.

He lets his words sink in, staring down at her.

She stares dejectedly at him, “What do you want?” she asks meekly.

Dean leans his face toward her, the gold in her eyes as if touching him now, burning him except that it leaves him with intensifying yearning. He lets his eyes fall shut to take in her scent, licking his lips in satisfaction.

Julie dares not breathe, dares not move.

“You. I want you.”

The blatant confession startles her. It definitely shatters every expectation she has because it doesn’t seem like her death is the end result. Is he telling her that he has decided that their previous agreement is meant to be an ongoing thing. They haven’t really talked about anything beyond the first night. And just when she was positive this would be the last time she ever had to deal with him.

He is letting her go only if she agrees to sleep with him again.

“But will you let me go home?”

He clicks his tongue, “Do you think you will be a good girl and remain obedient if I set you free?” It’s not a sincere question but rather he’s mocking her impatience to leave. She nods her head nonetheless.

“Y-yes.” Her nervous tone pleases him immensely.

She winces as he releases her and her feet finds purchase on the floor. She knows that she’s bruised by his grasp.

“I am letting you go because I allow you to. You try to run and I’ll find you. Nobody is going to help you. And believe me, Princess. You don’t want to find out what the consequences will be. I won’t kill you. But I’ll make your life a living hell. And then, I’ll kill you. Got that?” he asks with a sneer.

He never tears his gaze from hers as she remains silent, blinking in shock. He is pleased when she nods her head in submission.

“You don’t have to be so scared. Long as you don’t push my buttons, I promise I’ll be charming and convivial.”

He traces one finger against the side of her face, while his other hand is in her hair. He doesn’t know when or even why he has stopped being rough with her and started being… gentle with her.

He can easily have her again if he wants to, but somehow, knowing that she has to do this out of fear delights him.

He leans in and plants a soft kiss on her jaw, her skin warming his lips. She dares not push him away as his hand rises to her shoulder, kneading the knotted muscles, which tightens further under his hand.

Then, as if a rational thought went through his head, he stops touching her and pulls away from her. Ice seeming to settle all around her.

“You said you wanted to leave.” He says without looking at her.

She doesn’t need to be told twice and quickly makes her way to the door and out of the house.

.

Dean watches her leave as though frozen for several moments.

_What the fuck just happened?_

This is definitely not how he imagined things would turn out. He has no idea what came over him but his initial plan of strangling her completely disappeared when he saw the fear in her big brown eyes. Usually, it excites him, to know he’s about to be the one to bring about someone’s final fate.

He always had no problem with ending someone’s life or destroying it. he hates to admit it but sudden warmth flooded his icy heart when he looked at her fearful eyes, and her velvet small hands when she was trying to push at his chest. He doesn’t like how something about her helplessness stirred something powerful inside him. For a brief moment, he thought it was pity. But now he is realizing it is something else entirely.

It’s lust, not pity. He can’t pass off the fire he felt coursing through his veins at the sight of her vulnerability as being pity.

 

This is definitely a first for him; to want to go back to the same woman he’s had sex with. What the hell is wrong with him?

The girls that frequent his club, they all clearly want him. He enjoys the women he’s had in the past.  They are all willing to do anything for him. And they’re boring him. Julie, on the other hand, doesn’t want anything to do with him. Despite the fact that she came hard in his arms last night, he sensed some sort of quiet withdrawal, like she was there with him physically but not mentally. And this little realization first annoyed him and the annoyance then turns to irritation. It makes him crave, like he wants to get rid of it and makes her completely succumb to him. And he feels this missing complete surrender, the trace of resistance will change the pattern that he is comfortable with. Dean is a man who loves consistency. He likes when things in life are consistent. Stable. Usually, he’d  stop pursuing after a girl until he finally gets a taste… to be indelicate. That’s how it has always been. A glimpse of taste and he’s ready to jump to another girl within the span of 24 hours.

Now he wants a challenge, right until this morning, Julie has showed defiance and insubordination which makes her look a lot like a bratty submissive. And he’s certain she has the potential to be one too. With the right ploy, he bets he can make himself go head to head with her that leads to her being thrown over his lap and his hand reddening her ass.

Even though she was internally fighting not to give herself over to the pleasure that was taking over them both last night, she still clawed at him, leaving rather deep marks on his back which are now still stinging painfully. He doubts that she even realized she was doing it. He never minds it, though, not at all. He finds that there is pleasure in pain, and he reveled in the sensation last night.

She was no doubt the best laid he’s had in a long time. It was one of the most intense experience in his life when he came last night. It drained him and left him nearly awestruck. All these usual hook-ups he’s had in the past were great, but there is something that makes Julie stands out from all of them that he can’t quite put a finger on yet.

His past lovers were all openly willing and there has never been a sense of challenge they offered to him and he always took without attempt. He wants Julie to submit both her body and mind to him.

He is suddenly hit with new roaring needs to have her again, with a new pursuit to completely claim her, completely and utterly in every sense of the word. This thought causes him to become faintly aroused again suddenly. thankfully, he’s got a lot to do today to keep him busy. And hopefully will push away all reminiscent of whatever the fuck this is to the back of his mind. And if it’s just one of those ‘heat of the moment’ things, then probably his want of the damn brunette will disappear. It has to be. For the first time in his life, he feels like he isn’t in control. She is. And he doesn’t like it.

“Fucking bitch.”

Only she isn’t. and deep down even he knows that.

.

Julie goes straight to her room and doesn’t come out for hours. She’s been sitting on the end of her bed looking out the small window facing the street below. Her black dress has been discarded in a corner of her small room. Her mind still trying to process the fact that she made it out alive. It was one of the most surreal situations she ever found herself in.

She was so relief when he was actually letting her out of his house in one piece and didn’t really grasp the magnitude of the deal she’d just agreed to. She expected him to hurt her, threaten her and end her. Well, he did threaten her, but what he did instead, destroyed any expectation she had. He let her live. She doesn’t know if pity also takes part in this inexplicable conundrum, as there’s still some sort of price she has to pay.

As for the event from the previous evening. She still isn’t sure how she feels about it. She isn’t directly distressed by the fact that she gave herself to him. He’s been good on his word for everything was taken care of when she got home. Her nana has her medication, this month’s rent is paid for, there’s food in the cupboards, and the heat is back to warm her apartment.

In all honesty, she isn’t even outright ashamed about the night itself, she doesn’t really care what anyone thinks. Truthfully, she can’t get the memory of the previous orgasm out of her thoughts, no matter how hard she tries. Feelings of revulsion or loathing were being nudged aside by the warm feeling in her stomach. It was the first time in so long she had been able to let go. The first time she felt actual pleasure in years. The fact that she is wet just thinking about it makes her want to die. It’s unacceptable. It’s baffling her, and for a moment, she wonders if that secretly makes her a masochist. No. no. she was just starved for release because of having been deprived for so long, so a moment of pleasure would naturally become a welcome thing. Nothing to be scared for. But the fact that it comes from him feels wrong.

She is ashamed that she coped out, admitted defeat, given in. she doesn’t know what the right thing is to do. Should she have fought to the bitter end, starved and let her nana suffer because she refused to compromise?

But this way, she manages to live to fight another day. Even though, she isn’t really sure there is anything left to fight for.

She ends up staying in her room all day and only comes out when she needs to make her grandmother dinner. Her appetite is back entirely, maybe because she ate so little yesterday.

.

It has been a really long day at the office. Between surprise meetings and reports, Dean has to even take his lunch hour to deal with one of his Wayne Mill men attempt to run a side business. Christopher Hayes has become a real problem for Dean. The greedy 30 year old has apparently gone on a robbery and rape streak that go against the brotherhood code and could expose them. Dean has made him paid the price, of course, by his own hands. Allowing this event to be an example to all.

He might have gotten a little carried away though. Sam has to rush him back to the mansion to shower and change his bloodstained clothes before his board meeting at 2 pm. No matter how controlled he tries to be, he always exploded. He took four lives in total today. And this side of him sometimes scares him, this dark and twisted part of him. Every time he takes a life, he feels like a small part of his soul dies along with it. It certainly won’t be long until the monster inside him will consume him entirely.

So, aside from the fact it was a really busy day for Dean, it exactly wasn’t a good day either.

That’s why at 7 o’clock, when he is in the middle of debriefing session, Ingrid suddenly knocks on the door to the study and informs her that Carly has arrived, he is a little surprised and for a moment, confused. He’s forgotten about her. Dean met her today when he was visiting a business associate. She is the daughter of the CEO of Vedic Consolidated. She has made it clear that she wanted him the moment she laid her eyes on him. Dean, who felt like he needed to prove himself wrong about wanting Julie, invited her to dinner at his place.

“Tell her to wait.”

The maid nods and excuses herself.

Dean turns his attention back to his men when the door is closed all the way.

“Lyov, I want his loft completely wiped clean tonight. Nobody is ever to find out his identity. Make sure not one single fingertip is left behind. I don’t want this Hayes nonsense to turn into an even bigger thing than necessary.”

“Actually, I have taken care of it when you were at a board meeting this afternoon and went there with the others.”

“And?”

“There was no sign that anyone has been there since he left the place. I’ve managed to take all the electronic devices and remove all evidence of any crime from there.”

“Good. This is why I always have no problem to count on you.” Dean says, rising from his seat. “You’re all dismissed.”

Dean purposefully ignores his brother’s amused look and how he remains where he is standing while everyone is leaving.

“Carly?” Sam asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought your… _infatuation_ with Julie was still going strong.”

“Since when did you get to tell me where to put my dick?” he says irritably, trying to shove Julie’s wide brown eyes out of the forefront of his mind.

“Okay,” Sam relents. “I was just wondering.”

 _Just don’t overplay your hand_ , he feels like saying, but isn’t sure how his brother will take it. Dean simply isn’t bored with her yet. It’s just a matter of being defied, and once he’s over that, he’ll lose interest. Just like how he usually does.

.

Carly has actually brought crap to make him dinner with and he is starting to get the dreaded feeling that she thinks this is a date. And now that she is here he is having a second thought, she is actually bratty and annoying what with her constant babble about losing in a fight over some shoes. he doesn’t bother to listen mostly, he just needs to get this fucking over with. If she wasn’t hot, he would’ve asked her to leave right away.

After she cooks, Dean sits at the table and she opts to sit in his lap instead of in her own chair, annoyingly feeding him bites of the rancid tasting chicken she cooked. Dean continues to chug a bottle of whiskey he brought out, knowing he was going to need it.

As soon as he eats enough to satisfy her, she pulls him over to watch some movie but he’s had enough and drags her upstairs and to his room.

“Why not?” she pouts, instead of looking cute, it just irritates him more.

“Just get on my fucking bed already, will you?”

“Whatever you say.” She says, squealing as she runs into his bedroom.

“Come on, Dean. Don’t you want me to give you foreplay?”

“No. Just take your fucking clothes off.”

“You’re not going to help me?”

“No. I like to get straight to the point. Now take off your fucking clothes already.”

She is still trying to seduce him and he begins to realize that maybe she’s just dumb. Just one of those girls that are just makeup and spray tan and nothing more. So different from Julie.

He scolds himself inwardly for thinking about her right now. He pushes Carly to the bed and kisses her hard to make himself in the mood. She helps him out of his clothes quickly.

He doesn’t like the way she makes too much sound while kissing him sloppily. It sounds more like a cat being strangled in a lawn mower, not at all sexy and arousing. He pulls his lips away and tries groping and sucking on her breasts – the one part of any girl he is always fond of – to keep himself in the mood, but his mind keeps wandering back to the sexy, incredibly passionate brunette that occupied his bed the other night.

His head is suddenly flooded with visions of Julie. Her pink lips, her smooth, naturally tanned skin, the rosy blush of her cheeks and the globes of her breasts that fit his hands perfectly. Carly’s are also big but it’s clear that they have been surgically enhanced. Everything about Julie is natural, however, including her addictive smell. And the sweet, sweet sound of his name slipping from her mouth as he licked her clit…

Dean opens his eyes and is confused for a moment when he looks down and notices that Carly is the one staring back at him. It’s not who he’s expected.

He tears his mouth away from hers and rolls off of her.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” her hand reaching toward him but he avoids her, and rising up from the bed, searching for his clothes.

“Get out!”

She blinks, surprised. “Excuse me?”

“Get the fuck out of my house now!”

She doesn’t proceed to do as he asked and so he tosses her clothes to her direction. He heads for the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower.” He says. “You better be gone by the time I get out.” Dean slams the door. He needs to take a really cold shower to clear his head.

He’s happy to find that Carly listened and left. He would’ve definitely resort to getting physical if she’d insisted.

.

 

Julie doesn’t hear from Dean until the next day, when he calls her out of the blue telling her Joel is picking her up as they speak.

She considers not going, but that will put her back where she is. And because his threat scares her. Besides, begging on the street for bread isn’t exactly a great alternative either. She feels like she might die of shame. How has her life come to this? And she can’t afford to mess it up either for she’ll be in a much worse place.

When Joel arrives, he also gives her a package which contains another dress, a metallic gold this time. It’s not ugly, but it’s not her taste either. She is still not sure how she feels about having to do it again. She can’t even understand why he would want to. Considering her ex co-workers at Hopeless got into a fight just for serving him drinks at the time, it’s clear that women throw themselves at him. Yet, he managed to scheme and maneuvered to get her into his bed. Even paid her. And by all appearance, he wasn’t taking one for the team that night. He wasn’t exactly holding back.

She is anxious about going inside his house again. Will it be full of his goons? Will his brother be there?

Dean is dangerous and she’s afraid of him, but he also told her that he won’t hurt her as long as she doesn’t piss him off. Her survival instinct is beginning to surface. She wants to run, but can’t gather up enough courage to even move in her seat. He’s made it clear about his supremacy over her and the fact he has her feel trapped.

.

She is met at the door by Ingrid again and leads her to the reception room.

Julie finds Dean lounging in one of the sofas with a glass of wine in his hand. He acknowledges her presence and doesn’t say anything first.

Dean sits there, watching her. She is unsure of what to do.

She isn’t an expert at reading facial expression and it’s extremely tricky in Dean’s case.

“Come here.” He says finally.

She isn’t sure what he wants. Does he expect her to kiss him? The thought of being the one to initiate makes her stomach churn. It’s much too cordial an action for how she feels. Although she isn’t entirely sure how she feels. She hates him for what he has turned her into, but she can’t deny that she needs him. Aside from the fact that he scares her, he has actually made her dependent on him. Maybe this is how women who marry rich men feel. Although it isn’t a choice for her, it’s absolute necessity.

“Turn around.” He orders when she is in front of him.

Julie does as she is told. He gathers her hair in one hand, “Hold this for me.”

She holds her hair high and feels something cold snake around her neck. He attaches it at the back and adjusts it. It is obviously a necklace.

When he is done, she looks down and sees a yellow gold necklace with three small bezel set diamonds dangling from the delicate link chains. It’s a nice size, not too garish and somehow it goes with the dress.

“Are you giving me jewelry?” she asks

“You don’t want it?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“I just wasn’t expecting it.” She says and touches one of the small diamonds. “It’s pretty.”

Dean’s lips touches her neck, and startling her a little but she dare not push him. “You are so naïve.” He wraps his arms around her stomach and pulls her to his chest. His mouth trailing wet kisses on her neck.

“I hurt you.” He says when he notices the bruises from his grip that are still visible in her neck. His fingers go up to stroke her skin lightly. “It’s your fault. You should’ve never pulled a stunt like that. It’s for your own good.” He tells her.

His split personality is disconcerting. It’s almost terrifying because she can’t read people of such disposition, to her it’s the equivalent of walking barefoot on shards of broken glass, you always have to be wary and vigilant. And having no idea what else can make him tick besides disobedience is disquieting.

He isn’t acting like he was yesterday morning. He isn’t angry and _murderous_. And he isn’t manhandling her. But she is certain he could hurt her if he wanted to, and if she upset him. So it’s understandable that her survival instinct is kicking in right now. But she tries to relax.

Dean turns her around in his arms and captures her lips in a passionate kiss. His hands running up and down her back and drawing her closer.

“Kiss back, you minx.” He says between the pulls of his lips and touches her cheek. Angling her head as he pleases.

He groans when he dives into her mouth again. Lifting one of her leg to his hip as he rocks his hardness into her.

“Did Ingrid give you that shot yesterday?” he murmurs against her lips.

“Yes.”

“Good. I hate the feeling of condoms. I want to feel your silky smoothness around me.”

Dean lifts her up with ease and walks to settle her on the edge of the dresser, letting her weight settle before him. He catches her bottom lip with his teeth. He sinks his hips easily between the gap of her thigh.

She’s wary of him and he can easily snap her neck in a matter of seconds if he wants to. But he won’t if she cooperates. And not reciprocating his kisses falls within the definition of non-cooperation, so she timidly begin to kiss him back, her lips parting to meet his. Her hands move to grasp his neck and Dean hums into her mouth. It might be a good thing that Dean is very skilled at this because she finds she doesn’t need to use all her willpower to respond. And she hates to admit but she doesn’t exactly find him revolting physically either.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips along her jaw, to the soft and fragrant spot just below her ear lobe. She is getting more compliant, although he can still feel a slight awkwardness in her. He needs to destroy this wall of reluctance and make her completely acquiescent and indulge on his every whim. Dean pushes at the loose little straps of her dress, peeling the top open and makes her groan when his fingers place soft caresses around her nipples.

All the while he keeps rocking his hips into her. His lips touch her collarbone and lowers until he lifts her a little higher so that his mouth can clamp on her left nipple. She couldn’t have stopped the gasp that came out of her mouth almost naturally if she wanted to. He is suckling with the perfect combination of strength and tenderness and she feels it all the way to her core. He alternates between using his teeth and soothing her hurt nipple with his tongue.

Dean lets go of her nipple with a loud pop, “fucking hell, I love your tits.” He mashes their lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

Then as if he’d had enough, he moves his hand to unfasten the front of his jeans quickly and maneuvers himself so that his cock rest just at the juncture of her thighs.

A nursery rhyme pops into her head, and she lets her mind turn the words over and over like a calming mantra. Anything to distract her mind from this.

His finger catches the elastic band of her underwear and pulls until it snaps and the fabric is pushed to the side. Dean draws back slightly, one hand to position his erection, the other to scoot Julie closer for his entrance.

Dean looks at her intensely and kisses her just as he silently thrust forward, not even bothering to remove their clothes. She cries out as the pain of being violently filled goes beyond simple and rude flesh. The fast impaling seems to pierce her soul.

The other involved party can’t think to thrust, Dean so lost in the feeling of Julie’s body clutching him with excruciating tightness. Fucking hell, this feels even better than yesterday.

The sensation is so wonderful, so awesome that Dean is so lost in getting himself to the hilt until Julie begins to move her hips as a way to seek the comfortable feeling, which makes him recover. He sends her flush against him as he thrusts. She squeezes her eyes shut and thinks of the nursery rhyme, focusing on the phrasing as though it could lift her mind out of the hell she finds herself in again. She refuses to give herself in to the pleasure again.

_Curly Locks, Curly Locks_

_Will you be mine?_

Dean holds onto her hips and ups his speed. Her nails scratch at his neck, but he senses the sort of quiet withdrawal resurfacing again, as though she were with him physically but not mentally.

“Don’t hold out on me.” He says, as he presses deeper.

Dean begins thrusting deeply, his mouth attaches to her neck, biting the soft skin. He bites down to keep himself from crying out because he knows that if he were to allow himself to cry out, it would be something like the death cries of a large beast.

_You shall not wash dishes,_

_Nor feed the swine._

Wait. Something is wrong. This position she is in leaves her clit exposed, and he is hitting it with every thrust. A tingling stars to spread between her legs.  

_No, no, not again._

He wraps her legs tighter around his waist so that he is able to deepen his thrust, bruising the walls of her womb. His mouth is still pressed against the side of her neck. Panic starts to build in her throat. Her body betrays her mind as the tingling continues to spread. A whimper escapes her lips.

Dean licks at a spot he decides is his favorite on Julie’s neck, giving one more swath of his tongue before moving his lips to devour hers.

He tastes every inch of her mouth, his tongue twisting with hers as they pant together. He growls as he breaks the kiss and finds a steady, brutal rhythm.

_But sit on a cushion,_

_And sew a fine seam._

A finger suddenly flicks and strums at her clit, causing her walls to constrict even more.

“Oh God…” the gasp leaves her mouth before she allows it to.

Dean grunts and thrust harder. The tingling continues to spread.

_And sup upon strawberries,_

_Sugar and cream._

Julie cries out as she shoots upward toward climax, Dean’s body pounding into hers pushing her closer and closer until…

Dean whimpers as Julie comes, crashing his lips against hers, nipping at the lush bottom lip and sucking her into his mouth. Julie shudders roughly, a wave of pleasure erupts at her core, jolting her hard against the wall behind her. She gasps as her passage tightens around his cock. Her eyes rolling back into her skull.

_Sugar and cream._

He is close behind with only a few more hard thrusts. His teeth clamp down on her shoulder around a curse when he comes, his cock twitching, his release raw and imbued with such pressure that is just as intense as when he first had her that he feels he could easily faint. But he doesn’t.

 _Sugar and cream._


	6. The Serious Artillery

.

Polly calls her the next morning asking her to meet at Café Los Feliz at 10 AM, saying she has really important news for her. She is kind of excited for hanging out with her again, she’s always ready to give advice and somehow Julie always feels better after seeing her.

Julie finds her sitting on one of the chairs inside the café. Polly almost squeals when she sees her, making her wonder what the news is about.

“There's a male patron available for you.” Polly says enthusiastically as Julie sits down.

“Oh? I thought it couldn’t happen because of this promulgation thing?”

“Yeah, but hear me out.” She rushes on, “His name is Eduardo Bianchi. Mid to late thirties. Descendant of Polegato family. 100% loaded. Quiet man, an ex-computer programmer. Definitely has few professional prospects. Not really an ambitious man. And he plans on bringing someone like you with him to Italy. He will move permanently there by the end of this year. Technically, Dean’s claim doesn’t apply if you move abroad.”

Polly looks at her expectantly and Julie doesn’t know what to say for a moment. She was adamant that she would never want to go this route but now that an opportunity has revealed itself, she allows herself to think it over. Why wouldn’t she want this? This could be a chance for a nice, quiet life with someone she can tolerate and maybe depend on. But a part of her still thinks that she is not cut out for this kind of life.

 _You try to run, and I’ll find you._ His words are still clear in her head, deterring her quickly from even thinking this over.

“He's originally from Tuscany.”

She’s heard of Tuscany. It’s filled with spectacular scenery, Renaissance architecture, historic cities and beautiful countryside.

“I love Tuscany.” Julie says.

“He loves to have brunch at this time of the day.” Her friend continues. “Right over there.” She says, pointing at a brunch establishment across the road. “He should be here any minute.”

Despite everything, she is a little bit curious about this man. While they wait for the patron to show up, the same waitress approaches their table again, ready to scold her if she hold off taking her order. Julie finally asks for a cup of tea with an apologetic smile.

“Here he comes!” Polly announces. The street is unusually empty and there is only one man crossing the road and walking toward the brunch establishment. Julie assumes he must be the patron.

He has dark hair, average height for a man and somehow, Julie has always been able to tell how boring mens are by the sweaters they wear. And he's not an exception donned in two big, broad swaths of plain cloth of his jeans/sweater combo. In all honesty, he's not the kind of guy she would look at twice.

Julie sees him steps back when he's confronted by two girls coming out of the restaurant. He bows slightly when they walk past him, but they don’t acknowledge his presence.

“He has a good nature apparently.” Polly comments. “And obsessed with coin collecting.”

In all honesty, he isn't ugly. Just overall a plain guy. He also has intelligent looking eyes. Kind almost. Julie feels like she is assessing a puppy at the pond.

“Obviously he’s single.” Polly says, returning her attention to her friend now that Eduardo has walked inside and disappeared. “It wouldn’t be an exciting life, though. Unless you can bring yourself to care about coins.” She says unenthusiastically. “What do you think?”

Julie feels compassion for the man. The gentle man who doesn’t have the desire, or means, to find a wife in this world and yet craves companionship. He must be very lonely.

“I… don’t know. But honestly, he might do.” She concludes quietly.

“At least think it over.” Polly says with a hint of distaste. “That’s a beautiful necklace.” She continues, eyeing the piece of jewelry hanging around her neck.

Julie looks down and her fingers instinctively reach for it. She forgot that she was wearing it.

“I—

“I’ve never seen you worn any jewelry before and now you’re wearing one that I’m pretty sure would cost me an arm and a leg if I were to buy it myself _._ ” Her gaze has turned accusing and suspicious, making Julie feel cornered.

“It’s a gift.” Julie says in a low voice.

Polly tweaks her eyebrow in question, urging her to continue.

“From Dean.” No point in lying. She doesn’t exactly feel ashamed, she’s way past that. She figures, given her situation she really can’t afford to feel shame and be clouded with indecisions if she wants to survive.

The shocked look is palpable on Polly’s face. But she is quick to recover and demands that Julie tell her what’s going on. And so she does.

“Well, that was an interesting turn of events.” Polly pauses. “Though, I get why he is doing this.”

“You do?”

She nods. “Isn't it obvious? He's intrigued by your aloofness. Add to that he probably never met someone who wasn’t… keen on him before and you rejecting his interest in you obviously didn’t sit well with him. Men hate being ignored, you know. They always want what they can't have.” Polly says. She frowns at something that just crossed her mind.

“Although the part where he isn’t giving you up is a bit strange.” She adds, leaning back on her chair. “It does indicate something beyond his usual hookup.”

Julie only shrugs. “I’m not going to worry myself to an early grave by pondering it too long. I just want to get out of this situation as soon as possible.”

“Well, it's clear your resistance makes you a  _hot commodity_  . I'm pretty sure your indifference is what drives him to keep pursuing you. And if I'm correct then your acceptance must be the prize he's after.”

Julie stares at her, not liking where this is going. "What are you saying?"

Polly gives her a long look. “I'm just saying that if I'm right then I doubt he's gonna let you go anytime soon until you.... relent."

Wary flickers Julie's expression for a brief second, before being replaced with indignation. "Not gonna happen."

At those words, Polly gives her a knowing smile , as if already suspected she'd say that. "Well, then you can just wait out and if he is still interested in you after…  _say_ a few days or even a week from now, you can do something about it.”

“What do you mean?” Julie asks tentatively.

"How good of an actor are you?"

The question startles her a little. Julie stammers, but then Polly continues. "Because you might have to pull out the serious artillery and use your acting skills to execute it."

Yes, she definitely doesn't like the sound of that. Other than the fact it sounds like a lot of work, she is almost positive she can't pull off whatever plan Polly is trying to put forward.

“What is the most major turn off for men when it comes to relationship?”

Julie blinks, once again confronted by questions she doesn't seem to have the answer to. Polly isn't the type of girl who grunts monosyllabic replies. No, she's the kind of girl who would beat around the bush before eventually getting to the point. Actually, Polly told her once that she likes to hear the sound of her own voice, which is surprisingly narcissistic when she found out.

Julie can’t really think what she’s referring to. She's only had two boyfriends in total. And she went splitville with both of them on mutual understanding. Maybe liars. Well, everybody hates liars. Betrayal? She can't really think of anything that could get a man to chase woman away.

Her uncertainty makes Polly roll her eyes.

The blond-haired girl takes a short intake of breath. “They fear insecure and clingy women, girls who become conjoined with their boyfriends. Being desperate won't bring men closer to you but only repels them. Trust me, men hate it when you're coming across too desperate. They'll take a troll over a needy, aggressive and clingy women any day.”

Julie stares at her. She tries to think for examples. There was Penelope Webbs in 11th grade. Everybody in school knew how madly in love she was with Ethan Moore. They dated for a while but her constant clingy behavior and her tendency to follow him around like a puppy were effective at getting him to run. Everybody got second-hand embarrassment watching them at the time. It was also clear that Ethan hated Penny cooing over him, pouting and calling him sugary names.

“You want me to pretend to like him?"

“Not _like_. Love." Polly clarifies. And Julie gulps uncomfortably.

"That's not gonna work."

She doesn't really believe it, but it's more for the fact that she doesn't want to get on board with Polly's plan.

"Oh trust me, Julie. It's _so_ gonna work. Neediness really is an effective repellent in any relationship, even physical ones.”

Truthfully, she wouldn't know because she doesn't- though a bit proud to admit- exactly has hands-on experience in it.

“Just don't be so smitten and head-over-heels too quickly. He would notice right away that you are playing a game with him. He might be watching you intently, you know.”

“He’s a predator.” Julie says dismissively.

“But he’s hot.” Polly says.

Julie makes a face that says ‘what’s wrong with you?’

"I still can't believe you're practically banging Dean Winchester! Wait until Laney hears about this. Should I have a camera with me when I tell her?"

"No, Polly, don't say anything about this to her, or anyone for that matter."

"But she's been talking smack about you since the day you got fired."

That gossipy bitch. But Julie knows that if words go out, it won't do her nothing good.

"Promise me you'll keep this to yourself. I told you because I trust you enough as my close friend."

"What about Maria?"

Julie shakes her head firmly.

"But--

"Polly!"

Her friend holds up her hands in surrender. "Fine." she says, “Anyway, back to your plan. He needs to think you are catching feelings for him.”

Julie makes an uncomfortable gulp.

“Bring it on slowly. The key here is believable build up. Then, bring out the crazy.” Polly advises her.

"How am I even supposed to pretend to love him?"

Polly shrugs. "i don't know. Do what you'd usually do in a relationship, but  _extra_. Be extra affectionate, extra attentive, extra needy, refer to him as your  _snuggie woogems._ "

Julie makes a disgusted face. “I think I just threw up in my mouth.”

“Well you might have to.” Her friend says sternly. “Obviously he sees something in you that he doesn’t in any other girls. If I’m right and you are providing him with something unusual, this thing could go on forever. Do you want to play that game?”

“No.” Julie says, deep in thought.

“Unless you want to.” Polly presses. “He doesn’t treat you horribly, does he?”

She doesn’t know how to answer that at first.

“No.”

“Then stop thinking too hard.”

“I’m just not sure I could pretend to like him, let alone fall in love with him.”

“You must try. You don’t exactly have a lot of options right now.” Polly says, getting up. “Anyway, gotta go. It’s almost time for my shift.” Polly says and bids her quick goodbye before heading out.

Julie is convoluted in her thinking. how will she pull off pretending to like him? she isn't good at pretending to do anything. she is by no means an actor and has little experience deceiving someone.

She feels worse after seeing Polly. She had hoped that Polly would somehow set her right for a decent future. Getting on with this arrangement isn’t what she wants, but she does believe Polly when she said that she has few other options at this point until Dean relents his claim.

Julie sees Eduardo walking out of the brunch establishment. She has to shelve her fantasy about a nice quiet life of reading and gardening in the country with a gentle and potentially caring man.

.

Dean doesn’t call her for the next two days and Julie has twinges of hope that he’s grown tired. Her careful hopes are premature. She gets a text from Dean at about 4pm that tells her that he demands her presence  _asap_. It’s a terse text and there’s a hint of urgency in it. If it came from someone she cares about she would be worried. She goes to the window and looks down the road, true enough Joel is already waiting. Julie will go, but she will finish her sandwich first. Surely he isn’t choking or bleeding to death.

When She arrives, Ingrid isn’t waiting for her at the door. The house is quiet and she is suddenly curious to see what the emergency actually is.

“Dean.” She yells when she comes inside. There isn’t anyone in sight.

“In the study.” She gets a response.

She hesitates. The last time she was there, it wasn’t that great of a memory. But part of her also thinks he doesn’t plan on taking her to the cell and playing Frankenstein with her.

“Julie!” he yells

Her feet instantly move at the impatience in his voice.

He is sitting on the leather chair of his desk. It looks like he’s just got home from the office. The tie around his neck pulled loose and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled to his elbows. He looks exhausted and yet the expression on his face tells her he is cross.

He looks her over, “What are you wearing?” he says, eyeing the brown wool dress she’s wearing.

“My clothes.”

“Well, you look boring.”

“What are you talking about? This is a lovely dress.”

“For a widow. Where do you shop, anyway? Drab Garment Inc.?”

She narrows her eyes in annoyance. Pretend to fall in love with this insolent man? Yeah right. It seems like this is his second favorite thing to do to her: taunting her. She takes a deep breath before answering. “Well, I don’t walk around my apartment in a silk gown, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And this is what you wear?”

“You made it sound like an emergency. So, I came right away.” She said, annoyed that he makes a fuss about something nonsensical.

“You should always dress appropriately when you come here.”

“So which is more appropriate at 4 in the afternoon. This or a gown?” she asks, wondering why this ridiculous conversation is even happening.

“This is never appropriate.” He repeats, leaning back in his chair. “Close the door and come here.” He orders. Julie does as she’s told and crosses the room. He crooks one finger at her and points to his desk.

“What’s the emergency?” she asks when she stands in front of him.

“I’m fucking horny.”

“That’s not an emergency.”

“I never said it was an emergency. And yes, it is.” Dean rises to his full height, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him. His lips find hers in the next second. “I just finished cleaning the mess my men had made in New York. I’m tired and a ball of twisted nerves.” He says when he pulls back. “And now I need you to spread those lovely legs of yours.”

“Well, maybe you should get some rest then. And you said I looked boring. Shouldn’t that make you less hornier?” She reasons uselessly, which only receives a smirk from him.

“I said this dress made you look boring. Speaking of which...”

He grips the hem of her dress suddenly with both hands and with one fluid motion pulls her dress all the way off her body and throws it carelessly to the floor.

“Hey.” Julie yells and tries to cover herself with her hands. He quickly pries apart her hands and gets rid of her bra. He chuckles at her appalled look and her hands that go up again to cover herself.

He steps back from her, his gaze sweeping over her almost nude body.

 “Sit on the desk.”

Julie doesn’t respond. A part of her brain is panicking again. She knows full well that she’s had sex with him before and she’s expected to do it again. Anytime it pleases him. But it’s extremely hard to swallow the idea when it comes down to it.

Dean raises an eyebrow at her lack of response. It takes her a few more seconds to come to terms with the fact that her choices are still really limited and the best overall outcome will include the route involving putting her tush on the damned desk.

Julie narrows her eyes and slowly starts to move towards the desk, getting on it while still trying to cover her modesty. It makes no sense to still try, but she does. She sits on the desk, naked, covering her breasts, feeling like a prize twit.

“Spread your legs.” He orders from where he’s watching her.

Her teeth are going to break if she clenches them any harder. She moves her legs apart just a little.

“Now that’s just not going to do.” He says with his most evil smirk. “Do you have any idea what it does to me when you act all virginal?”

He lifts her legs apart and places himself between them. Julie can feel what it does to him.

He plays with her legs for a bit, running his finger tip up and down the skin of her inner thighs. His attention is completely on her body now.

“Move your arms.” He says. She still hasn’t moved her hands from her breasts as she sat down on the desk. His face seems to relax as his eyes roam her body.

Julie feels disconnected from her body as she watches him. His hands roam up to her breasts and lightly knead them. She can feel how hard he is as he presses against her.

She didn’t realize how much taller he is than her. But up close, he looks much larger than her. His wrists are thicker, his hands are bigger and the long fingers are warmer than the hard, cold appearance suggests.

As much as she hates Dean, he is not an unattractive man. So, it still doesn’t make sense to her that he felt the need to pay someone to be with him, even worse, force someone into survival mode like he did with her.

When he’s done feeling her up, he makes quick work of his pants and literally rips her panties off. Julie glares at him but he doesn’t notice as he has his eyes closed and hisses when he enters her. It takes a bit of pressure from him to get all the way in. He’s making a humming sound like he has just tasted something yummy. He slowly pulls out and her body resisted the movement just like it has on the way in. his eyes have a serene and distant look to them as he starts to move in and out of her.

Dean apparently notices the advantages of having sex in this position. He obviously noticed what had made her orgasm the last time and he’s taking advantage of the knowledge. He enjoys watching her teetering on the edge of orgasm.

After a while he traps her clit between his fingers, while the other grabs her by the hips and continues pounding into her. He pinches the bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to further spark the knot of desire within her. His face seems to swing between a smile and a pained expression and the lost focus completely as he comes, crying out as he pounds into her through it.

He is leaning against her heavily when he finished. She watches as life slowly returns to his face. Dean lifts his head and she sees a bit of a bewildered look on his face for a couple of seconds. Males are funny creatures, she thinks.

“You are a fantastic fuck.” He says.

Julie stares at him. She isn’t sure what to say. She knows he meant it as a compliment, but as a girl, it just doesn’t sit right. Particularly not with these circumstances. It just kind of makes it sound like this is what she’s supposed to be doing and it hurts.

“I have somewhere to be. Stay here until I get back. I want your ass tonight.” He says. He’s still inside her. Julie tries to wiggle away, but he holds her where she is.

“I can’t.” she argues, “I have someone that depends on me.”

“I’ll send someone over to take care of her.”

“No.” she says. “She’s my responsibility.”

He stares at her. She wriggles harder making it obvious that she wants him out. Still he holds on. Slowly, he starts moving inside her again, growing harder with the friction. Julie can tell he’s upset. As soon as he’s hard again, he begins thrusting into her much harder than he ever had before.

Julie doesn’t mind, she isn’t shocked. Somehow it seems more authentic in some way she can’t quite explain. And it’s almost… sexy. Dean is shaking with exertion when he finally comes the second time, thrusting through it. Julie has never taken herself for a girl who likes it rough, but she had to admit there’s something appealing in a bit of anger.

He pulls out of her and tucks his flaccid member back in his pants. He reaches for the drink he has on the desk.

“Your old biddy doesn’t need you in the middle of the night.” He says after a while.

“What if something happens? What if there’s a fire?” she reasons. Staying here waiting for him isnt something she wants to do. What they are doing is bad enough. Her expression pretty much tells him it’s not an option she wants to consider. Though there is an underlying control she is trying to maintain in a situation where she has very little.

Dean gives her a long look and for a moment she’s worried she might have gone too far.

But Dean doesn’t say anything. He runs his tongue over his teeth and seems to concede. This makes her think he probably still has a conscience after all.

“I’ll ask Ingrid to take you shopping tomorrow.” He says instead. “You seem to need everything and don’t think I didn’t notice your shoes.”

.

Dean is true to his word. Ingrid is at her door the next day. Julie feels a little apprehensive about spending the day with her because she has been giving off the vibe that she doesn’t like her. The morose expression on her face confirms her trepidation.

“It seems like Captain plans on maintaining his proclivity for you for some time.” Ingrid says curtly. “He really can’t afford to indulge in this distraction too long. You have to do something about it.”

“Do you think I wouldn’t if I knew how to get out of this situation?” Julie responds just as offhandedly.

“I didn’t mean to come off as rude.” Ingrid answers in a tone different than she used before. Gentler this time. “All I’m saying is, the sooner you get out, the better. It’s for your own good. He might get you caught up in things you won’t be able to get out of.”

Julie throws a calculating look in her direction.

“Thanks, but don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

“That’s what one would say just before they fall right into danger.”

Julie stares at her, unsure at the direction she’s going with this conversation.

“You must realize that by being in this  _relationship_ with him too long, you’re also inviting danger to yourself.”

“I know. I’ve seen it with my own eyes that day.”

“No, you don’t. That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about unforeseen problems.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about Artur.”

Julie furrows her brows in question.

“Artur or  _Arthur_  Pavlovsky is Sam and Dean’s uncle. I don’t think he’ll take it very well if he finds out that Dean’s sole focus isn’t on Wayne Mill.”

“Am I supposed to be scared of him?” she asks, though she already has a good feeling what the answer would be. 

“You should be. He is the Godfather within Wayne Mill. A Godfather here means the boss of all bosses, or the Pakhan. He holds influence over the whole empire and has absolute control over every member within the Brotherhood, including Dean and Sam. The Wayne Mill is the largest Russian OPG with about 7,000 members in Russia alone, American bases excluded.

“Dean is the head of the organization in America and technically a director and has the power to order anything. You might think Dean has the sole power here but Artur is the one responsible for running the organization. Nevertheless, Dean is still greatly respected and widely feared by everyone. Then, when his uncle dies, the role will inevitably be given to Dean.”

“Wait. Does that mean Dean is Russian?” The tone of surprise so clear in her voice.

Ingrid nods in confirmation. “He’s half-Russian. Mari Pavlovsky was Artur’s sister. She married an American named John Winchester and lived there because she wanted an escape from this life. She finally did escape and had two beautiful babies. But then a tragedy happened and killed both Mari and her husband. Captain was only four at the time and Sam was only a few months old. Artur took care of them ever since. His wife, Olga, was so overjoyed though because she couldn’t have kids.”

Julie feels her head is spinning. Too much information at once. She somehow feels overwhelmed. To think she already knew everything there’s to know about Dean.

She was already horrified by the fact that Dean has control all over LA. Knowing that he’s involved in some kind of transnational syndicate group just makes it worse.

“Anyway, women have long been known as a distraction to men. If somehow your presence derails his progress, it won’t end well for you. Doesn’t matter if you’re even directly responsible for it or even realize you’re doing it.”

“So what are you saying?” Julie asks, hoping she’ll find a way forward to her. A feeling of worry begins to creep up her spine.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know what to tell you besides wait out whatever this is that’s going on with him until he isn’t interested anymore.”

“So, I should just put up with being used and subjected to his whims?”

Ingrid sighs. “I realize this isn’t an ideal situation for you. But, the less you fight and question everything, the faster you’ll get out. You really don’t want this to develop into something else and have Artur involved. He is a tyrant. He is never one to give anyone the benefit of a quick death. He’ll make it painful and gruesome.”

“I don’t want any of this, Ingrid.” Julie shakes her head, feeling her eyes begin to water up.

“I know this is awful. And I hate to say it but there’s nothing you can do about it now, except to play your part. Only until he tires, which is sooner than you think. Believe me. I’ve been around him long enough to know how this plays out. A little bit of pain now is better than potentially years of pain later.” She says, grabbing her hand. “You are not responsible for the way things are. They just are.”

Ingrid continues when she sees Julie’s expression. “In the meantime, let’s get you a whole new wardrobe. Your fashion sense definitely needs improvement. What do you say we look for dresses first and intimates later?”

Then, in the next second, Julie is being dragged this way and that for what seems like ages. Her mind is still processing the information Ingrid has provided her. She wasn’t exactly excited about going shopping and now with the new knowledge she just learned. She completely feels demotivated. Thankfully, she doesn’t need to take an active part in this. Ingrid makes decisions on what to buy. Julie is surprised to know that Ingrid has apt knowledge of the latest fashion. Mostly, Julie is just there to try things on. She doesn’t exactly understand what makes one different from another, but apparently certain colors just make her pop, whatever that means.

The next three hours surprisingly go on in a whirl. Julie is exhausted. And they haven’t even shopped for the intimates part. Somehow, Ingrid also convinced her to buy hats and glasses and other accessories. A whole wardrobe, as Dean has told her. She purposely saves intimates for the last part.

“I don’t get why I need all these fancy dresses.”

“Let’s just say, I know his type.” Ingrid says.

“I take it Captain gave you that necklace.” She continues, eyeing the gold chain around her neck.

“He did.”

“I see. It’s just an old Russian custom, though. He comes from one of the oldest families in Russia so it makes sense that he still holds onto some values that people don’t normally care about these days. If this was a court, you’d be courtesan _._  Men in this position pay for all your needs, even though this thing between you two is only temporary. At the same time they don’t want to give too much, because then the women will run away, but there is also a status thing with giving their kept women nice jewelry. In the past, such thing was discreetly encouraged at timely opportunities because it showed off their position and wealth.”

Julie cringes at the label. She has avoided the ‘kept woman’ label issues as much as she can. Being told one makes her want to dry retch.

“Reminds me of when he was 20 and completely besotted with Nadia Ivanov.” She continues.

“ _Besotted_?” Julie says.

Ingrid nods, ignoring Julie’s amused look. “She was the only woman—  _girl_ , that he ever had feelings for,  _real_  feelings. He loved her. And I could understand why he did. She was pretty, graceful, sweet and caring towards him. And she came from a respectable family. A perfect match, if you will. They dated for three years. But then, she turned out to be a vindictive bitch.”

“What happened?” Julie asks curiously

“Nadia’s father used her to manipulate him. I didn’t see it coming either. Nobody did because Mr. Ivanov was literally working with Artur to take down the Yakuza who were maintaining quite a large presence in Saint Petersburg at the time and controlling as much as two-thirds of the Russian economy. He double-crossed Artur and worked for the Yakuza the whole time. Artur was furious upon learning his true intention and loyalty. Mr. Ivanov and his daughter both earned their death sentence on the same day. He also took revenge on their families as well. It was only two weeks after that that Artur also took down the entire Inagawa-Kai members, the Yakuza family, operating in Russia at the time in one massive prosecution.

“This whole betrayal changed Captain’s entirely. I mean, he was already reticent and reserved before he met Nadia but to have his feelings crushed like that really left a hole in his heart. And I’m pretty sure Nadia was the reason he now sees women as nothing more than mere tools for his baser purposes.”

Julie’s face twists in an ugly way at that.

“Has he given you any more jewelry?” Ingrid asks, startling her a little. This woman can shift gears so fast.

“Do I need to buy jewelry too?” Julie asks, exhausted.

“It can be your retirement plan.”

When Julie gives her a confused look, the maid smiles.

“You are naïve.” She laughs, the action makes her look ten years younger.

 “I'm aware of what he did to get you to... agree to this arrangement. And given the situation you’re in right now, you should work smart. Obviously, he will no longer provide for you once he’s done with you. And there is no guarantee he’ll give up his claim either, especially if you two part ways in an ugly way.” She says seriously. “There are two ways to go about this. Have you heard of the concept of a patron before?”

Julie nods.

 “Good. You can either find a patron or go the wealth route. I suggest the latter and accumulate enough wealth to retire. Some prefer the patron thing and find happiness there. But I prefer wealth. That way, you don’t have to worry about getting a job right away because you have cold hard cash. You don’t have to depend on the whims of a man either. And because men basically can’t be depended on for constancy no matter how much they profess their devotion. So if you only take one thing from this whole conversation, it’s the only rule that counts. Don’t fall in love.”

“Pfft.” Julie snorts at the ridiculous notion. “No chance there.”

“Good.” Ingrid says. “This is strictly a financial transaction and nothing more. He provides for you and you provide your company in return. Even though, Captain is still interested in you but he goes through girls like socks. He won’t keep you for long. So, take what you can get before it’s time to move on. Consider where you want to go next. If you’re smart. You decide and make it happen.”

 _I would rather go back to having a normal day job_. She thinks to herself glumly. This is all a bit more predatory than she’s comfortable with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to AwkwardSloth for always leaving nice reviews from the beginning.


	7. Animum Despondeo

When Ingird said she needed a whole new wardrobe, apparently she really meant it. Now Julie has bright colorful dresses and even gowns. What the hell would she wear a gown for? Her small closet isn’t going to fit all the dresses. There are sundresses, shoes and scarves.

Ingrid also insisted on buying her lingerie, which makes her very uncomfortable, ribbons for some reason and silk stockings. Ingrid made her buy a lot of unnecessary things.

Dean requests her presence that evening. She wants nothing more than to just retreat to bed but she doesn’t want to experience his wrath either. So, she gets prepared and puts on one of the new dresses. It’s not that she wants to impress him, she just doesn’t want him to make fun of her again.

When she arrives, he is, as usual, waiting for her on one the sofas with a drink in his hand. He drinks a lot, she notices.

He acknowledges her presence without saying a word.

“Better.” He says as he looks her over. He is obviously referring to what she’s wearing.

He makes a come here sign with his finger.

“Did you enjoy shopping on my account?”

“It’s exhausting.”

He smiles at her flippant retort. “You’re a strange girl.”

“Why, because shopping isn’t the highlight of my life?”

“Of course not. I am.” He says with complete confidence, and grabs her elbow.

 “Come on.”

She lets out an audible ‘huh’ before he leads her out of the room and to the right direction, it looks like they are going to the west wing of this mansion. From all the time that she’s spent here, it seems like he occupies most of the east wing. His room and his study are on the east wing too.

“The west wing is entirely Sam’s. I got the east wing.” He tells her as he keeps leading her down a dark hallway.

Dean walks them towards a heavy door and into a bright warm space. The light and laughing spill out of the room as he opens it. He leads her through the tables towards a large table in the back filled with people.

She balks. She didn’t expect there would be a lot of people here. There aren’t too many people and it isn’t noisy enough to be a party but it certainly is a gathering of some sort. It’s a dining room filled with about 12 men, including Dean’s brother. All of them have a brittle and dangerous quality that, on the whole, she would rather cross the road to avoid. There are ladies too in bright dresses. They have obviously had dinner but finished.

He feels her hesitation and turns. “My brother loves to throw house parties.” He says, but she is gripped by uncertainty and not just a little panic to care.

A man with crew-cut hair and of decent bulk approaches them. “Dean, I have been looking for you.”

“Matvei, I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow.” His voice is clipped, hinting at his disinterest in his unexpected presence. Julie is now aware of the tensing in his jaw and the slight change in his mood.

“That was the plan, but then I heard there’d be free booze this evening so had to get here quick.” He says, then he averts his gaze to her. “And who is this enchanting vision?”

“I’m Julie.” She extends her hand towards the man. Instead of shaking her hand, he takes her hand in his, gently, and bends over her knuckles, winking at her before bushing the lightest of kisses there. Julie tries to smile to hide her uneasiness.

Dean clears his throat. “This is Matvei Volodya. An associate of mine.” He places a possessive arm about her waist when Matvei lets go of her hand.

“Well, sit down.” Matvei says and indicates to the table.

Dean puts pressure on her hand to pull her towards the table. She can’t really do anything other than let him.

“You just missed dinner but in time for dessert.” His brother says as they both sit down.

One of the girl hands her a glass of wine and Julie smiles her thank you. The men are drinking wine as well as stronger stuff. Matvei seems to stare at her at one point or another, but doesn’t really talk to her.

When the pudding arrives, Dean and the other men are already talking about the strengthening of continental intelligence focus by Member States that has led to the heavy blows that came about in the south-west of Lening-something. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t follow the conversation, but she knows that she doesn’t like the topic of the conversation. It sounds much like they are plotting world domination or something.

The other girls don’t seem to care. They are either enjoying the food in front of them or openly vying for attention. Every other girl here looks manicured in every possible way. Their make-up is flawless and their nails are glossy. Julie wonders if any of them is here against their will like her. She has a feeling every other girl in this room is probably being paid in some form or another.

Dean doesn’t pay much attention to her, which doesn’t bother her a bit. His brother, Sam, talks to her once in a while. She actually tolerates Sam. He is witty and a little on the tartly unguarded side, maybe a little bit more cultured than the rest with his dry humor.

They sit around the table for a while until the men want to retire to the billiard parlor. Julie is secretly thankful to be able to escape the confining dining table and go somewhere they don’t have to sit so close next to each other. The parlor has been Sam’s sanctuary for years. its paneled walls, white sheer curtains and thick carpets give the parlor a comfortable feel. There is also a wet bar installed in the corner of the room. The room has been improved with other kinds of entertainment to accommodate various guests’ preferences, including a gambling table in the middle of the room. The billiard table stands at the far end of the parlor. Sam has always prided himself of being the undefeatable champion when it comes to Russian Pyramid. It’s similar to snooker in terms of equipment, but the Russian Pyramid, or pyramid billiards, or simply Pyramid is considered to be one of the most difficult billiard games. Dean may not be that much into Pyramid Billiards, but gambling is definitely his specialty.

Some of the girls follow the men and watch them play Pyramid while the others lounge on the sofas, and drink more. Julie opts for the latter and settles down for a long evening. She takes the time to study the crowd again. All the women seem to make real effort in entertaining their men, which makes her wonder.

Am I supposed to flirt with Dean. Julie wonders. She doesn’t. she can’t stomach the idea. She’s on board with Polly’s plan but she doesn’t think she should start now. Though, she figures now is as good time as any.

He is now laughing at something his friend just said. He is laughing so hard he is turning slightly pink in the cheeks.

This is the first time she sees him laugh genuinely. It changes his face entirely. He has perfect teeth. She is starting to realize that there actually is more to him. He looks like a different person inebriated.

A couple sitting in front of her are fully making out now and Julie doesn’t know where to look.

Unfortunately there isn’t anywhere she can dismiss herself to. She could excuse herself to the restroom but how long can she hide there before it’ll raise suspicion. There aren’t any groups of people she would rather talk to either. So, she’s kind of stuck here.

Her mental wandering is interrupted by someone shoving a glass of ruby liquid drink in front of her face.

“You are very quiet.” Matvei says as he sits beside her. Julie takes the drink in her hand and smiles her ‘thank you’. He takes a sip of his drink, and Julie, not wanting to come off as suspicious of his motive, follows his lead.

“There’s simply no opportunity for me to join in any conversation that sparks my interest.”

"Men around here tend not to make any effort in choosing a conversation topic that's appealing to women."

"Maybe because the opinion of a woman is of no interest here."

he lets out a small chuckle. "The opinion of a woman- a beautiful woman - is always of interest." Matvei presses his hand against his chest and bows slightly.

Julie narrows her eyes, she has the distinct feeling of being made fun of, but can't fault his manners.

“Forgive my forwardness..." he continues. "But I am confused as to why a girl like you somehow ends up in the arms of the notorious Dean Winchester.”

Julie frowns, his words striking something inside her.

“A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, “I could tell from the moment I saw you that you are not like the typical girls he usually picks up from his club. You’re probably the kind of girl who associates with vanilla boys who take you for a stroll on the beach or go to the movies.”

His words are like a jab in her ribs. Is it that obvious?

“Or maybe you’re one of those innocent, goody-two-shoes girls who are secretly attracted to dangerous guys.”

“What? No.” she says defensively.

“No?”

“Believe me. I’d rather not be here if I had a choice.”

His eyebrows shoot upwards at her words. He’s clearly intrigued by what she just said, which now makes her think maybe she should've phrased it differently.

He is about to reply when Sam calls him from across the room.

“It seems like my presence has been demanded. Apparently, I am the only real challenge to him when it comes to playing Pyramid.”

 _yeah, go away._ she thinks inwardly. she really can't tell if Matvei means well or if he simply has a certain air about him. But, his manner somehow tells her to be extra vigilant. 

.

As the night goes on, people keep drinking and gets increasingly drunk and flirty. The men have even moved on from their billiard game to gambling. Cards start to slide across the table and dice orchestrates the murmurs of the people around the table. The room now looks like a mobster playground. She has never seen anything like it.

She spends more time looking around the room and listening to conversations happening around her. Some men are discussing politics, government inner workings and such. It seems quite interesting. But after a while the drunkness is setting in, leaving the conversation less diverting.

After a while, more and more people begin to huddle around the round table and watch the gambling that’s going on.

Her curiosity finally gets the better of her and she gets up as well. Dean is now playing against a man he has called Victor earlier. Julie can tell Dean is becoming too drunk tonight and if he got to the point of being too drunk to register the surrounding, he wouldn’t need anything from her tonight beyond someone to get him to bed. She smiles at the prospect.

At first they’re gambling with wads of cash rolled onto the table. But then, it starts to get more reckless, even to the point where they are gambling with some of their lesser property. The excitement is clearly affecting them because they are caught up with each turn of the cards. The intensity clearly affects everyone who is watching, even Julie, who really has nothing better to do than to watch the game unfold. Dean wins in the end and Victor is clearly annoyed.

“I’m the undefeated champion.” Dean exclaims in his drunken state, a bit of his drink spills out of his glass as he shoots his arms in the air. Which now that she thinks about it, it’s kinda impressive that he managed to win.

“Really?” Matvei, who also has been watching the game, chips in and laughs. “I’ll take you on.”

Dean smiles. “Yeah? Get ready to have your ass handed to you.”

“You think so?” Matvei challenges. They stare at each other for a while. Not unfriendly, but not quite friendly either.

“I’ll play you for that hunting lodge you have in Greece and I’ll put up the cabin I have in Sweden.”

“No.” Matvei says. “Julie.”

Julie’s head shoot up at her name being mentioned. What’s going on? Both Dean and Matvei are staring intently at each other. The whole table is quiet and so is everyone else.

“Fine.” Dean says and then sneers, and Julie’s mouth drops open. “I’m going to enjoy my summer in Greece next year.”

She can’t believe her ears, surely he isn’t gambling with her as the stakes. Is that even legal? The game starts and Julie waits with baited breath at each turn of the cards. She doesn’t really know the game well so she isn’t really sure what’s happening. The intensity of the game is involving lots of people, who are standing around the table watching the game unfold.

The crowd suddenly hiss and Julie looks around frantically, trying to get a read on their expressions. But she gets nothing. Everyone is chewing on their fists. Both Dean and Matvei are completely focused on their cards. It’s not long when the crowd gasp and then cheer.

She looks at Dean and his face is in a dark scowl. Matvei is laughing and pumping his fists in the air in a little victory dance. Julie is feeling queasy with tension. What has just happened? Matvei has just won. Won her. What does that mean?

“Best two out of three.” Dean says.

“No way.” Matvei says, still laughing.

“Give me a chance to recover.” Dean demands.

“Nope.” Matvei says with pride. “Come, my lady.” He holds his hand out to Julie.

She is shocked. She doesn’t know what to do. She looks around the room and comes eye to eye with a confused Sam and then the murderous gaze Dean is throwing at her. Matvei finally takes her hand but Dean says or does nothing. She realizes that he doesn’t exactly have any choice other than to let her go. If he were to protest, it would look like he was endorsing a deeper connection between them other than their current physical relationship. Julie lets Matvei drag her out of the room.

“Time to go before Dean loses it.” He says to her quietly.

She hears a large commotion behind her as they walk down the stairs to the exit. She can still hear Dean screaming some very powerful expletives. Language she has never heard him use before.

Julie is positively shaking with adrenalin as Matvei leads her towards his parked car. Her mind is still trying to grapple the implications of what just happened. There doesn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the air tonight.

.

“I don’t have to go along with this.” Julie says as Matvei keeps walking them both to the direction of his parked car. “You don’t own me.”

“Of course not.” Matvei says, “You have no say in this. Only Dean does.”

“I can just leave.” She states more to clarify so they are both clear. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly like the very basic concept of gambling. The loser has to give up any stakes they have on their property if the winner has any interest in it.” he says, opening the passenger door for her. Did he just refer to her as one of Dean’s property?

His eyes sparkling a little in the darkness as he looks at her. Julie makes no move to get in.

“If you want to run back to him, then go ahead. You are your own person.”

She shakes her head. She wanted to be rid of Dean and has just managed it, albeit unexpectedly.

“But then again…” Matvei says, “Since I did just win you. I think I deserve a taste of you tonight.”

 She jerks her arm away from his grip and shoots him a disgusted look. “Get away from me!” she says and starts to walk away.

That’s about as much patient as he can hold apparently, for in the next second, his mood is doing a complete one-eighty. He grabs her upper arms and whips her around so fast. “You said you didn’t want to be there.”

“But I didn’t need your help!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep you. Dean lost you, which wasn’t his plan, so naturally he will get you back. And there’s only so much I can take before…” he drifts off and Julie feels disconcerted by the statement.

“I don’t care. I didn’t agree to this.”

His eyes flash as anger quickly overtakes him. His fingers close around her throat and he shakes her roughly. “Don’t be an ungrateful little bitch.” He snarls.

Alarm starts dawning on her face. Julie claws at his hand, digging her nails into his flesh. He takes hold of her hand easily and twists it around and behind her forcefully, forcing a pained shriek from her constricted throat. The alarm on her face is quickly being replaced by panic.

 “This could be so much easier and better for you if you chose to cooperate. But I like it best when my women are unwilling.” He says, cool and calm, yet the manic glints in his eyes suggest otherwise. As she watches the savagely pleased expression on his face, she begins to realize that he is probably even more twisted than Dean. Julie feels her tears leak down her cheeks as her air begins to diminish.

She makes a strangled noise but he never relents and keeps his strong grip on her throat. Her delicate body sags eventually, her weakness forcing her to drop the glacial expression on her face. Unwillingly, her body begins sinking to the ground but when his body will give no leeway; her form slumps sideways and begins to fall to the ground, his hand still tightly wrapped around her neck. Within moments, unconsciousness swallows her mind.

Matvei releases her neck and cradles her limp body to his.

“That’s more like it.”

He shifts her into his arm and carries her to the passenger seat.

.

Julie feels like she is in the light and strangely colorless place between waking and slumber.

Even in unconsciousness, something seems to register within her body as she twitches slightly.

Hands on her ankles, caressing her legs, her calves, pushing lightly, drawing her knees apart.

She can’t move her arms.

Her eyes shoot open.

Horrified she looks at Matvei’s head, kneeling at the foot of the bed, his hands holding her naked thighs apart. And in that moment, she realizes the bastard also has her arms tied above her head.

In panic, she tries to close her legs and starts to struggle, but he is too strong and keeps her open easily.

“No…” she tries to gasp instantly realizing what’s occurring as he reaches forward and pushes aside her folds, coating her nether lips with his own pre-cum to get rid of the lukewarm dryness where molten slickness should be.

When he pinches the elusive bundle of nerves between his fingers, her struggle intensifies and she tries to slam her legs shut, but it does little good, his hold prevents her movement.

Julie gasps as he strokes her again, rougher, harder, pinching and pulling. He plays with her clit at the same time as fingering her until he draws a small involuntary moan from her hoarse throat.

“You bastard. Stop… Please!”

Matvei takes no heed of her plea.

“Sshh… be still.” He murmurs.

In the next second, his tongue takes the first swipe, and her body arches up. He knows how to combine the firm strokes of the tip of his tongue with hard sucking on her most sensitive spot. Julie feels disgusted as she looks at the man feasting between her legs with his eyes closed, breathing her scent deeply.

“Please…. _Urgh…_ stop…”

He pinches her nipples and the sweet pain shoots directly to where he can multiply it tenfold. She can’t believe how betrayed she feels by her own body.

The bastard is methodical in her seduction, like he’s trying to make her enjoy her own rape.

Helpless to stop it, the sweet tension finally coils into a tight spring and with the next movement of his tongue, she bucks into his face and the spring lets go.

Julie is still spasming when she feels his hard cock push into her, through the continuing spasms of her muscles.

Matvei is on top of her, inside of her, moving and moving.

Still she is still trying to shift her clumsy body and resist, glaring murderously at him which earns a nasty smirk from him.

“Thought you’d still fight me.” He says and pulls out of her completely.

He opens the bedside drawer and retrieves something from inside. It’s a small bottle containing a dark liquid. He grips her jaw, hard, forcing her lips to part. He quickly pours the liquid down her throat, forcing her to swallow. She doesn’t know what it was but she tasted a powerful, ambrosial sweet flavor on her tongue.

Matvei watches her with immense concentration.

“An aphrodisiac elixir to spice up your mood.”

Julie glares at him and is about to tell him that it doesn’t work when she feels a sudden flushing of warmth throughout her body. From head to toe, a warm liquid heat that is tiny but blossoming, flowing slowly but relentlessly through her body. A warm wind makes every inch of her skin tighten and tingle, raising goose-flesh over her entire body. She squirms, her stomach muscles tense and flutter and tiny little sparks of pure pleasure begins going off in small steady bursts in her middle. She realizes she begins to lose all of her control in the situation and it scares her. Her body is warming. What the hell kind of aphrodisiac did Matvei give her?

 “Bast—tard,” she rasps, struggling at her bond, wanting to free her hands so she can stuff her knuckles in her mouth to keep from making any noises, while trying not to buck her hips.

“Ma…. ke… it…” she bits her lip, unable or unwilling to complete the sentence.

Matvei bares his teeth in a feral semblance of a smile. He barely brushes his fingers down her cheek and every inch of her skin heightens in sensitivity. His touch feels like a sensual feast.

He obviously notices the elixir begins to take effect and smiles in satisfaction. “It’s laced with extremely potent pheromones. A result of a clever evolutionary design involving human blood, muira puama and shatavari, guaranteed to create a very powerful, heady chemical cocktail that can make you feel true euphoria.” He assures her with satisfaction.

She watches as he uses the liquid on himself and then slants his mouth down on hers. She is senseless to stop him as aphrodisiac finally works its magic in her system and with a soft, frantic sound, she smashes her lips to his, moaning loudly as the sensation of his mouth goes straight through her like a mortal wound.

Matvei makes an approving noise in his throat and kisses her roughly, coaxing her mouth open to accept him. His tongue flicks against hers and she eagerly lets herself be drawn into the kiss. The fucker has probably been planning this before he even won her over the gamble.

She’s aware of his solid erection pressing into the pillows of her lower lips and dampening his silken length by shoving through her slit once. Then, with a sharp arching of his back and a snap of his hips, he slams forward into her with a snarl and a moan.

The pain of the rough entrance is only more stimulation to her frayed nerves and her babbling brain practically bursts, her muscles clench up, body screaming in ecstasy. He lances through her, filling her.

She is already so far gone when he pushes her thrashing body down on the bed and begins to thrust that she can’t even wonder what’s happening. She feels relief wash over her when he frees her hands from their bond so she can wrap them around his neck. Her mind feels like it’s wracked and on a bliss at the same time. Whatever Matvei has doped her up with has completely warped her sense of reality.

The rest of it is a blur. She screams and screams for him to bring her to completion already.

She remembers him pouring more of the elixir down her throat, and then blowing smoke into her mouth for her to inhale. She never even knows what he does but she can feel him as if he were piercing her both front and back. She can’t bring herself to care at the fact that he might be doping her up with hallucinogenic drugs.

Whatever liquid/drugs he gives her, she sees him uses them on himself. Later it’ll occur to her that she’s probably sampled some of the finest narcotic concoction known to mankind.

She no longer knows what’s real. She hallucinates rather vividly, the colors dance around and she could swear they’re making music. The white bedspread even becomes red at some point, or maybe that’s another hallucination.

Faces melt out of the folds of the white sheets and speak to her. She doesn’t really have the attentiveness to hear what they say because Matvei’s head is buried between her legs once more and she is enjoying that rather a lot.

Her last memory of the night is of laying face down on the bed with Matvei’s body, hot and damp, moving on top of her while he gulps for breath near her ear.

.

.

Julie groans. She is lying somewhere, somewhere soft and warm.

There’s a bright morning sun and she is naked. She looks around and the onset comes like a fierce stab in the heart that she jerks awake.

The effect of the elixir has worn off but she’s s feeling disoriented, She lifts her head up and it aches with the movement of it.

Her eyes catch the sleeping body next to her, and she feels nauseous in an instant.

_No, no…_

Strange images start creeping through her confused and scattered mind in a blistering wave. Dean gambled her away and she had sex with Matvei- panting, screaming sex, while drugged. Feelings of anger and mortification start to rise like bile.

She fumbles naked out of bed, stumbling around the room to retrieve her clothes with trembling hands. She almost breaks down in panic but she can't. Not here. She wants nothing more than to just get out of here.

She cries on the way home and she doesn’t quite manage to get to her room before the tears start flowing again.

Julie collapses to her knees. She’s never been so misused in her life. What else did she expect, she chides herself. Mortified embarrassment and regret don’t even come close to what she is feeling at the moment. Her whole body is sore and she is physically exhausted. Mentally, she can’t even go there.

The worst part of being gambled away was that she fell into the hands of a monster who was just as worst as Dean, if not more. The fact that she was drugged that had made her willing doesn’t provide some kind of comfort whatsoever. She participated. End of story.

_“Dean lost you, which wasn’t his plan. So, naturally he will get you back.”_

Matvei’s words slither through her mind. This can only mean one thing: last night wasn’t the end of her nightmare.

With a sob, she curls up on the floor. She is not going to see them again. She doesn’t care that Matvei “won her” or that Dean hasn’t given up on her. She doesn’t care what the outcome will be. She will put up as much a fight as she can. But she won’t let herself be abused in such a way. Julie wipes her mouth, she can still taste him. She lurches to the bathroom, blindly turning the knob in the shower; she needs water and soap to desensitize her, cleanse her, to get rid of Matvei's touch and scent completely from her skin. She doesn't need a reminder of that awful night. She wants to erase it from her memory. She wishes she could.

.

 


	8. Confrontation

Matvei Volodya is cunning, a damn good strategist and extremely crafty. But he is also an idiot with a smart mouth who thinks his reckless arrogance can get him anywhere just because Artur regards him highly. It’s no secret in the Wayne Mill brotherhood that Dean and Matvei despise each other. When Dean was still a young teen, just before he grew darker and fearful, not everyone in the Brotherhood bothered to show him respect despite being Artur’s cousin. It’s a normal sight in the Brotherhood to see some group of senior members beating up the junior members, especially if the latter have yet to be made-men. As a matter of fact, this act is encouraged by Artur. No one is allowed to be in the Brotherhood if they have a personality equivalent to a snivelling coward. And despite being the heir of the Wayne Mill, Dean too was briefly on the receiving end of the beating. But of course, it ended as he grew older and finally took the path to become harder and darker. Matvei was in one of the group that used to beat him up when he was young. Yet, even after Dean gained his new position of power and they now only have to see each other when Dean makes his regular yearly visit to Russia, they still despise each other. Nevertheless, they still manage to act civil towards each other and Matvei is smart enough to realize not to put his life on the line by directly disrespecting him.

After last night, the last thing Dean wants is obviously to see him the very next day, least of all spend hours with him in a meeting. But Matvei is an important part in the Brotherhood, despite only being an associate. He’s come along way and now even works directly under Artur, which is the reason he is here today.

After the breakup of the Soviet Union in the 90s and the Wayne Mill assumed a leading role within the Russian criminal hierarchy, the group was able to infiltrate the top economic and political strata while taking command of the burgeoning crime network that was spreading murderously through Russia. Part of this was due to Matvei’s doing where he managed to turn the state’s evidence against Artur. That’s why, despite only being a Shestyorka to the organization, he was quickly earning his trust and respect in the Brotherhood. This position is temporary and an individual either making it into this world or being cast aside. But, being The Pakhan’s most skilled associate makes him a steadying presence in Dean’s life.

“The Pakhan agrees to use different off-shore accounts for this.” Matvei says, as he sits in front of Dean’s desk in the study. So far, he knows better than to bring up the event from last night and if he wants to go back to Russia in one piece, then he should keep it that way.

“That’s a big amount.” Dean comments as he gets to the last page of the document and reads the final value at the bottom. The intended first transfer almost amounts to 20 billion roubles, which is close to approx. $640 million.

“But it’s still not solid enough to raise suspicion. Besides, they are all from Switzerland. This country doesn’t care who you are as long as you give them your money.”

“I’ve told my uncle repeatedly that Winchester Inc. is never meant to launder money for Wayne Mill. That’s what shell corporations are for.”

“The Chechen Family implements something similar for decades and they are fine.” Matvei finishes his sentence with a smug smile, making Dean want to knock out his teeth. 

Winchester Inc. is the only thing he owns that was not built by the constant interloper that is Artur. It was his father’s and both him and his brother agreed to continue his family’s business. Dean has always been proud of how big the company has grown. All without the interference of criminal activity of Wayne Mill. He lets Artur use their real estate, banks, restaurants and retailers to invest money and control their territory. This company is the only thing untainted with Wayne Mill and he wants to keep it that way. And he refuses to let his uncle turn his father’s only legacy into a place to launder money.

“The Pakhan finally realized that your company will guarantee a double shielding. It looks like the real thing. No one will suspect a thing and more important, it’ll never come across the FBI’s radar.” Matvei says and then continues with the ultimate weapon, “it’s a request from The Pakhan himself.” He says smugly.

Dean looks up from the report in front of him. He loathes the smug expression on his face. He knows Matvei is aware of the fact that that one sentence would get him to do just about anything. He has to or else troubles would fall on him.

He wants to bristle. But refrains himself because he knows losing control right now will lead to titanomachy with his uncle and so he endures Matvei’s presence and his shit. All for the sake of keeping the balance.

Dean stares at him a long moment before grudgingly agrees. “Fine. But if we are going to start involving my company in this, I want it to be done my own way.” He says sternly, his voice suggests he leaves no room for objections.

Matvei takes a moment before saying: “I’m listening.”

“First, I don’t want Winchester Inc. to be the only company involved in this. We have to make this process virtually unreachable for authorities so we need at least three _steps_ before the money will eventually end up leading here. I already have two other companies in mind: the trust company in Malta being the first step; and a Hong Kong company being the second. And I pick the administrator too. I know a Hong Kongese that’ll be perfect for the part.”

Sam, who has been listening intently finally chips in as well. “Wait, Dean. How do you plan to do this from Los Angeles?”

“We’re going to need a lawyer, someone we can trust and reach an agreement. And make him come here. But it’s too expensive. We have to do this in Malta.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Matvei replies.

“Second. I want all the transfers to be done in comparatively small amounts. And this…” He holds up the document he’s read earlier, “is a high amount.” he continues, tossing it back on the desk. “I can’t risk working on the total amount at once. It’ll definitely bring attention to my company.”

“Suit yourself. But you’ll need to talk to the Pakhan directly since you insist on assuming the spearhead role in this.” Matvei says like he hadn't a care in the world, though his tone and stare are filled with challenge.

For a mere associate to tell his Captain what to do is a deadly infraction. Dean grips his armrests tightly. He is straining every nerve to give in to his primal need and show Matvei what happens to those who disrespect him.

Dean leans forward slowly in his chair. His voice dangerously even. “I’d think very carefully about my next words if I were you.”

“I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?” Matvei challenges. “You are particularly grumpy today, Dean. You’re not still mad about last night, are you?”

The amused glints in Matvei’s eyes make him want to jump over the desk and punch him in the throat.

“You’re taking your loss particularly hard. Is it because the whore means more than just the occasional lay to you?” Matvei doesn’t even bother to hide his smirk. He knows he is taunting him and takes immense pleasure in it.

“Anyone who is not part of the Brotherhood doesn’t matter." Dean says with a mask of indifference. "I don’t understand your question.”

Matvei totally ignores the not-question. “Though if you’re still enamored with this girl, I’ll totally understand. I admit, she struck me as boring at first but who’d have guessed that there was a wild little thing inside her. An innocent who is secretly a heathen always gets my motor running. I'm actually thinking about keeping her as my occasional side bitch.”

The thought of Matvei of all people owning her makes his blood boil. At those words, Dean’s last scrap of patience is completely gone. He fumes and feels his calm nature starting to collapse. His right hand is reaching for the gun at his back. He's losing what little control he has when it comes to this man. His gaze locks with Sam's, and in that moment he realizes, as his brother shakes his head at him, that what he’s about to do is driven by rage and not logic. And it won’t be something he’ll later be proud of. Though, the thought of Matvei begging him to spare his life is so tempting. So he tries to control himself.

Another time.

He takes a deep breath, trying to control his temper before reaching for another folder on his desk and opening it. This asshole needs to leave and there are still a couple things they need to talk about. “Let’s just finish this.” He says, ignoring his last comment and trying to focus on the matter at hand. His entire body still tense though.

They finish the meeting an hour later. Everyone gets to their feet, Dean goes to retrieve all the documents for his uncle from his safe, and hands them to Sam to put in a briefcase before giving it to Matvei.

“Sam and I will go to Moscow next month. My uncle knows how much Winchester Inc. means to me. He’ll understand why I want to decide how to work on this. I’m sure the man will have no problem postponing this process until then.” Dean says, putting his hands inside his pants pockets to give them something to do.

Matvei frowns. “The Pakhan wants the transfers to be done after we’re done with this meeting.”

“All the off-shore bank accounts are confidential, right? I don’t see how it could be a problem to keep the money there for another month.” Sam says reasonably.

“The Swiss bank was recently acquired by a larger financial institution.” Matvei tells him snidely. “And with the increasing control, we could lost the money if we kept it frozen.”

“Then I’ll ask Lyov for help.” Dean says curtly.  “That man has the right acquaintances and knows how to make the money flow through foreign banks. In the meantime, I’ll work on the agreement with the other two companies. You can tell my uncle that by the time we arrive in Russia, all that’s left to do is sign a couple documents and the transfers will be done.” He makes sure his words are uttered like a final.

“Very well then.” Matvei says. "Let's hope he'll find your reason _reasonable_."

“He will.” Dean says briskly.

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, Dean.” Says Matvei, approaching his Captain and offering his hand to shake.

“No hard feelings, right?”

Flashing his best fake smile, Dean shakes his hand. “No hard feelings.”

Before Matvei can even blink, Dean moves quickly, turning his hand behind his back in a painful sharp angle and slamming him face down on the desk. Matvei cries out in pain as his head snapped. Blood is pouring out of his nose.

“Fuck!” Matvei shouts in pain, blood now spreads across the mahogany desk. Dean leans forward with his forearm pressed against the back of his neck. He hasn’t been expecting to do this but as soon as he touched Matvei’s hand, he knows that he can’t let this asshole leave without a good reminder. Especially after that comment about Julie.

“Do you really think you can come to my territory, talk to me like I'm your equal and just get away with it?” Dean hisses, pressing Matvei’s head harder into the desk as the other man yelps in agony.

Dean takes the hand pressed against the back of his neck and removes it, grabbing the back of his head and crashing it once more into the desk, a bit too forceful this time. Dean is sure he hears another crunch; his broken nose giving away a bit more.

“Fuck! Let me go!” Matvei groans in pain, bracing himself against the desk as he tries in vain to buck Dean off. Sam just stands and frowns slightly as he tries to figure out his brother's intention. He knows his brother can't kill him yet.

“It’s about time you come down off your high horse and truly learn your place.” Dean fumes, not releasing his grip for one second, as the other man groans in pain. “Wasn’t there news about gang wars in Chicago this morning, Sammy?"

"20 casualties, fought out with car bombs and drive-by shootings.” Sam replies.

Dean’s face is cold. “That’s right. And you know why, unlike the other _vory_ , we are against tattooing ourselves?” this time, the question is aimed at Matvei.

The man nods, confused and wary on his expression. Tattoos are the mark of a _vor._ They attest to the visual language as well as the universality to the Soviet underworld. Authorities are always equipped with details such as a leaping stag on the chest or knife wrapped in chains on the right forearm to identify _vory_. When organized crime truly began to come into its own in Russia in the 90s and Wayne Mill gained dominance in Moscow, Artur began to blend in with the elite and tattoos were replaced with crisp, white shirts of a rapacious new breed of “authority”. That’s why, despite Wayne Mill having over 10,000 members, authorities can’t identify even a single member because there is no conventional clues for identifying them.

“I have about a dozen ways to end your miserable life with my own hands and make it look like you're one of those casualties. And I'll have everyone believe you’re just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe I’ll dump your body into the sea. The thought of your corpse floating in the Gulf of Finland all battered and partly eaten away is just so… tempting. No one will be able to identify you without the tattoos. What do you think, Sammy?”

The steadily growing horror is palpable on Matvei’s face. “Please! No!” he begs, his body trembling, caged behind Dean. He knows exactly what his Captain is capable of. He has seen it many times, but he never thought Dean would have the guts to move against him.

Keeping his hold, Dean whips out his gun and holds the cold steel on Matvei’s temple, letting him know he is close to ending his existence. He goes still in abject horror for a split second before starting to plead with him like his brain is babbling at him to.

All his smirks and grins are apparently just a put-on to cover the pitiful and simpering side to his personality.

“Dean.” Sam says, realizing his brother might have gotten a little carried away with his warning. He knows full well how easy it is for him to lose all of his control.

“Please! Please! Let me go! Forgive me! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again I promise!”

Dean smiles at him. Slow and dark. “Oh, I’m making sure it won’t.” He turns off the safety of the gun. The daunting sound clicks close to his ear.

The man beneath him is disgustingly weak and is learning his lesson. Dean is a breath away from killing Matvei. But he knows he won’t end him now, unfortunately. However, Matvei still needs extra push.

“No, no, please! I’m sorry! Please let me go!” Matvei continues to beg pathetically, trying to free himself from the hold Dean has on him. But it’s no use. He’s trapped.

“Let’s get one thing straight. The second you stop being useful to Wayne Mill. I’d happily put a bullet through your head. You understand me?” he hisses with venom in his voice.

“Yes.” Matvei groans in pain, struggling to nod despite the strong hold Dean has on him.

“Yes what?”

“Y-yes, Captain.” Matvei corrects himself quickly.

“Now get out of here before I change my mind!” Dean shouts, dropping the gun and pulling him up harshly and pushing him towards the door.

Dean pushes Matvei out of the study and down onto his knees. One guard at the open door moves forward with gun in his hand, taking a hold on him instantly. “If I ever see you again in my city, I will kill you.” he says. “Get him out of my house!” the guard nods dutifully and drags Matvei out of the house.

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, fighting the headache forming there. He feels more tired than usual. Being in the same room as Matvei took a lot of his energy.

When he turns around, he’s greeted by the smirking Sam. Leaning on the door with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“I really thought you were gonna kill him right there and then.”

“Too bad I didn’t.”

“So, what was that all about then?”

Dean frowns. “What do you mean?”

“That… unnecessary level of confrontation that just transpired.”

“Son of a bitch had it coming for a long time.”

Sam lets his words hang in the air while he ponders something. “He’s right though.”

Dean glares at him. “About what?”

“Julie.” Sam says neutrally. He lingers over words, unsure, and then continues. “I think she is a bad influence on you.”

“What makes you think that?” He asks with a slight edge of irritation.

“Well, for one thing you yelled at pretty much everyone at the office today." Sam reasons shrewdly. Dean is aware of how clearly unbalanced he was today. Swinging from one mood to another with no warning quick as lighting. "And then you almost killed Matvei.”

Annoyance twists Dean’s face. “She has nothing to do with this.” 

 “You’re obviously still hang up on her.” Sam presses on, ignoring his brother's denial.

“What do you want from me, Sam?” The words uttered almost exasperatedly.

His brother shrugs, “I don’t know. Do what you usually do. Let’s go to White Stripes and cart a tart around or something.”

“I don’t fuck girls on command.”

“Fine. Whatever. But, if you keep up with this attitude, people are going to think you’re catching feelings for her.”

“I can’t control what people think, Sam.” He snaps and Sam holds up his hands in defeat. Dean turns, signalling the end of the conversation.

Sam is right, though. He's still pretty much hang up on her, but he doesn’t need to know that. He never really entertained the thought of eventually letting her go and her with somebody else when he's done with her. And he's very surprised at how much that thought bothers him and how Matvei's words about Julie and the fact he's had her caused rage inside him. He doesn't want anyone else to touch her. Anyone except him. Something about her is able to effortlessly skirt all of his usual defenses. He's never met anyone like her. His libido finds her constant resistance incredibly irresistible. But it might also because the mere physical appearance. She's fucking gorgeous and effortlessly sensual. He is a normal guy. And if his reaction is a little out of the ordinary it certainly doesn't have anything to do with her. It's the excitement of putting her in a tight corner and limiting her choices. The thrill of getting her to do anything he wants. The buzz from knowing she would reject him the second she had the chance. The feeling is new. Maybe because he's never been rejected before.

It's because he's competitive. He never wants to lose in anything. Certainly not to fucking Matvei. He can't have her leave and have her attention lie somewhere else. He certainly can't let her leave him and go to Matvei. Or anyone else. He'll decide when it's over. He will decide when he's ready to let her go.

He isn't ready to let her go.

And if he's honest with himself, he knows he wants her to want him. Want him like he wants her.

.

 _  
_ Julie can’t get rid of her foul mood all day. And even she is still angry when she wakes up the next morning. Her feeling of anger finally dissipated only to be replaced by disgust, and to her surprise, hurt. She can’t quite understand why she is hurt. It’s not like she trusts Dean or Matvei, far from it, but it hurts to be treated that way. Still, something in her feels that Dean should’ve protested and taken care of her.

A little part of her has been expecting a call or a text from Dean, telling her he is sorry. Though that doesn’t mean she’ll forgive him right away, but nothing. Now she scolds herself for even thinking he might apologize to her. She’s been told she is naïve and she is starting to believe that maybe she is.

Maybe Ingrid is right. This is nothing more than a mere financial transaction. Caring here is strictly limited to providing her needs and nothing else. She should stop being gullible, thinking everyone in this world has a good intention. She should start to become harder if she wants to survive in this world. No more ridiculous notion that assholes like Dean Winchester will watch out for her. This is not a world where anyone watches out for her.

Except for maybe her nana. She can tell that something is wrong and is trying her upmost to wring it out of her. Julie isn’t going to tell her, although she can imagine her grandmother stomping over to Dean with her rather debilitated walk and hitting him with her purse. At least, she gets one giggle out of the whole affair.

Dean tries to reach her the next day, though. To her ultimate surprise. But she leaves him to voicemail. Maybe if she keeps ignoring him, it’ll send a message that she’s hurt and he’ll stop pursuing her. Why bother putting too much effort in a girl who hates him even more now while there are plenty of others who are willing, right?

 

Julie knows in the next few days she has to start figuring out what to do to keep going. Maybe she'll sell the necklace he gave her. It’ll probably keep them going for a few weeks, but after that she’ll have to figure out something. She considers selling the brand new wardrobe, which will extend their survival for a little longer.

She knows what Polly will say, keep the wardrobe, find a patron and move on. She wonders what Polly would say about what Dean did. Surely, she isn’t supposed to put up with something like that? But she still doesn’t know Polly well enough to judge how she would react to something like that. But, she knows that Polly is savvy and wily enough to never get herself in such a situation.

Julie hates feeling stupid.

She’ll have to start planning soon. Begging isn’t something tempting and if she was stupid she would find herself on the street plying the trade which is an even worse fate.

Julie also ends up telling Polly what happened. She really does suck at acting. She tries to appear smiling and sunny when they meet for lunch and it only takes her 20 seconds to notice something is wrong.

"Well, I thought this thing between you two would last longer than that. Though it would've been impressive if you had engineered that yourself."

"But it means he has to give up his claim on me, doesn’t he? The promulgation is no longer in effect?"

"Hmm... I'm not sure. But, logically he has to give it up according to the code of conduct they prescribe to."

"For good?" She asks, needing confirmation.

"I don't know. I never really came across this particular situation before. Besides, you also need to take the fact that this Matvei guy "won" you into account." Polly says.

"I'm not coming back to him either." Julie shakes her head. She hasn't heard from him again and the relief that washes over her is immense. Maybe he decided to dump her now that he finally "got a taste"... as he put it. She doesn't care. She isn't bothered by the fact that he used her like she was disposable. The point here being she got rid of him without having to put up a fight. Now, only one more nuisance to deal with.

"Though. I highly doubt he's going to stop, you know." Polly continues.

"Who?" she asks, a bit startled.

"Dean." Polly clarifies. "It's clear losing you annoyed him the way you explained it."

The brunette doesn't know what to say or think. "But he lost."

"For now."

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm just saying that if he did approach you again, and I'm sure he will. You'd have no other choice but to go back." Polly explains carefully, though she continues when she sees Julie's expression. "Only until he decides to relent his claim. if I were you, I would play on his determination. A man obsessed is a dangerous thing. But who says you can't use it to your advantage?"

Julie eyes her friend sceptically. She doesn't really understand what she means and doesn't really want to know. It sounds much like there'll be more plotting, deception and mischief involved.  Much like last time, she feels worse after seeing her friend. But at least, Polly always tries to warn her about how things will go. She always appreciates how she'd inform her how things would play out.

.

 

Dean finally does make his approach. And he does it when she least expects it. It's a few days after her lunch with Polly. He seems to have been waiting for her because she sees him lean back against his car when she walks out of the grocery store. It amazes her how one person can affect your mood so much, she thinks with a sigh.

Her first impulse is to turn the other way but then she would come off as childish. Part of her thinks he might want to apologize but she knows the likelihood of that happening is pretty slim, mostly because she understands what to expect from someone like Dean and apology isn’t one of them, as far as she knows.

She is still hesitating but her feet seem to move on their own accord.

“You are not answering my calls or my messages.” He starts.

“My phone died. Power outage.” She says blandly.

“Six days in a row?”

Julie looks away from him and shrugs.

“Sold the necklace already?” he asks when he notices a lack of jewelry gracing her neck.

“Yes.”

“That won’t keep you going for long.”

She glares at him. But doesn't say anything. She knows that. And she knows he's very aware of that too. And he plans on using that to his advantage again, just like he did the last time. 

“I’ll find a way.” she says

He raises an eyebrow that tells he doesn’t believe her. “Nobody else wants anything to do with you.”

Her eyes narrow. Because you promised to destroy anyone who tries, she wants to yell at him.

“I’ll be fine.” She says and starts to walk.

He is quick to catch her arm, though. Which she yanks off just as quickly.

“Don’t be so damned stubborn.” He says. “Look, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I was drunk.”

Oh right, because the “I was drunk” excuse always works.

Julie just stands. She lets the hurt show in her eyes. So, she is playing it up a bit. She is genuinely hurt, but it isn’t in her instinct to show him, or anyone for that matter.

Seeing the hurt in her eyes softens him a bit. “I wasn't thinking straight. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Julie stares at him, surprised by hearing an apology from him. Is he drunk now?

“That still doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“I know. And just so you know, you don’t have to worry about ever seeing Matvei again.”

She doesn’t understand what he means at first. Maybe he threatened Matvei or something but when sentence like that comes out of his mouth, it could only mean one thing.

It’s quiet for a second.

“Is he dead?”

He doesn’t respond at first, staring at her with that unreadable expression. She finally takes his silence as the answer and her eyes go wide.

“No.” he says finally. "But he's gone."

So that’s it then. Whatever was to happen, happened and Dean is here to inform her. She tries to hide the bitter smile.

“Did you sleep with him?”

There is a pressing silence.

“Yes.”

He looks annoyed by the answer. “You could’ve said no.”

Her gaze hardens. She feels like punching him to the next week by how easily he said those words.

“Gee, thanks for the advice. That never occurred to me.” she says bitterly. 

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you sleep with him?”

Julie stares at him incredulously. “Because of you?! You gambled me away. Were you too drunk that night to remember what happened.”

Silence prevails.

“You could’ve run.” He says. And he actually sounds quite vexed.

Why is he somehow putting the blames on her? It definitely sounds like he blames her action for sleeping with Matvei. She can’t believe her ears.

“I did try but your friend went psycho!” she yells and Dean tenses briefly. The way she said it suggests that Matvei must've resorted to his usual caveman tendencies. He suddenly wishes the bastard was still here just so he could give him another good reminder again. But he doesn't want to appear to care too much either.

"This is what you did to me. You lost me my job and turned me into a whore!"

He tsks with annoyance.

“He is not my friend.” He says like it’s a priority thing, unfazed by the other things she just said. “Did he give you something? Like a liquid of some sort.”

Julie is still fuming. “Yes.”

He nods his head and hums as if everything finally makes sense. “He… likes to experiment with those things.” He explains, not affected by her anger in the least. “Did you like it?”

She is annoyed that he is so dismissive about her rant. Selfish bastard. And why is he interrogating her? Truthfully she didn’t like it. “It made things easier.” She says instead. It's not a complete lie. She can't remember most of what happened that night, so there's that.

“You want me to use it on you?”

That one sentence enough to tell her his intention of his approach.

Julie wants to ask why. Why can’t he just let her go? Just how long does she have to wait until he finally gets tired of her? Although she thinks she knows the answer. Because he hasn’t had the chance. He lost her. Something that didn’t happen under his control. So, now they are back on track according to his plan. She also finally took Polly’s advice on board and as much as it grates her, she’s accepted what the outcome of this little dealing will be.

“From what I understand, my opinion in this situation doesn’t matter.”

He tsks again.

“You gambled me away.” She says. “It should’ve hardly mattered what happened afterwards.”

More silence.

“I have a little house in Northridge.” He says instead. “It’s one of my properties that has been unoccupied for some years.”

She has no idea what Dean is getting at.

“You can stay there if you want. Your old biddy sure could go for a more comfortable change from that rat-invested slum you call apartment.” He continues to Julie’s shock.

“We are ok.”

He resists the urge to answer in the way he wants. Sometimes her pigheadedness still shows despite the fact she's aware of his supremacy over her. For a moment they glare at each other. He watches her narrowly, an openly calculating expression on his face and when he answers it's bland, "Well, what is it you want then? More jewelry? Money?"

If he intended to rile her, he succeeded. She practically screams at him. "NO! I don't want anything from you! Not everything can be solved with money or... or jewelry! God! Is that all you know about women? I don't want you to provide me with anything! I just want you to let me go! I can take care of myself!" it felt good to let this out.

Her words didn't seem to affect him. Instead he smiles at her, a crooked arrogant smile. "Such a proud girl." He says and for a moment he almost looks fond. Once again paying her rant no mind. She almost throws the heavy bag full of groceries in her arms at him. “Well, I want you to move there. And I expect you to or I’ll personally throw you out. There's only so much patience I have and you know how I react to disobedience.”

She has to bite her tongue in annoyance. Part of her wants to ask why and scream at him, but the other part really doesn’t want to know what he’ll say. What choice does she have now? She’s still unemployed. And she needs him to let her go, which he won’t do until he decides to. So, she does the only thing she can.

“Fine.” She relents. “But I’ll decide when I’ll move. It’s not going to be today.”

He doesn’t say anything so he must have accepted her terms. For a moment there she almost believed that he’s actually sorry. But by no stretch of the imagination could he be seriously assumed to have the capacity of feeling sorry. Why would he be sorry. All he wanted was to get her into his bed again. So much so that he went as far as giving her a house. It’s an empty gesture.

She feels like crying at the realization. But she can’t really expect anything genuine. That’s what she is to him. As cruel as the reality is. She has to accept it.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intentionally left the term Bratva (A term for Russian mafia) out of this story but still used some of the original terms like The Pakhan and Vor (pl. vory), which translates roughly to "thief in law" and Shestyorka (an associate). just in case some of you didn't know what these mean. :)


	9. And the pretense begins

Julie moves to the new place the next day. This is definitely a big improvement to what they have been living in for the past years. Even though her nana was a bit sceptic at first but she can tell that her nana is secretly sighing with approval at the new, better change. Now they have a proper bedroom, a proper bed that doesn’t hurt her back when she lies down on it and a proper bathroom that isn’t shared with the entire occupants of the building. The kitchen is also stoked with food.

Moving to the new place is bitter sweet. It reminds her of a different time, a different life. A time when she still had her family and a time when the world wasn’t cruel to her, and she still had faith in it. She isn’t sure what she believes in anymore. It certainly isn’t her innocence.

For once, Dean actually listened to her. He doesn’t bother her until she’s all settled at the new place. He calls her over early and has sex as soon as she arrives. Dean has a hangover and Julie learns that a hangover seems to make him 10 times hornier. But she feels that’s a false assumption, he’s always horny and he always drinks, she accepts as he repeatedly thrusts into her.

He so unapologetically revels in her body and what he’s doing. His concentration is absolute on what he’s doing. Julie watches as every muscle in his body strains with effort. He does have a beautiful body. There are no soft bits on him, which she always appreciates when it comes to men. She wonders if he actually missed her before dismissing the thought. She can feel how excited he is as it presses against her belly. A fissure invades her senses. Her body is starting to get used to sex now and it seems like Matvei’s goddamned concoction leaves some sort of aftereffect that’ll never really leave her system because her body now craves the pleasure more than ever. It responds to her shock.

This isn’t allowed, she thinks as he raises himself up over her and begins a slow deep rhythm. It’s getting harder to not give into the desire and find release.

Julie fights desperately to fight the desire as his hand finds her clit and strokes his fingers in succession across the sensitive bud. She manages to suppress the sensation although her body is begging to submit. He cries out as he comes, arching back as he grinds her hips to him.

Dean seems to completely deflate after, his head sinking down and his eyes closed. Julie lies there upset that her body has, once again, the audacity to orgasm. He doesn’t deserve her accepting him. He manipulates and demands, he never asks. She isn’t sure if that’s the whole story but it makes sense to her. She has issues with enjoying sex with Dean and that is the long and the short of it. She doesn’t want to go into the details. Her steely determination to shut down the sensations is the only barrier and control she has in this situation. Something in her mind tells her that submitting to Dean would be a really bad thing.

He rolls off her, sweat covering his body. “There’s some business I have to attend. Stay here until I come back.” He says after a minute of catching his breath. “I don’t think I can get through tonight without murdering someone if I don’t have this to come back to.”

“Fine. But after you come back, I’m going home.” She doesn’t like how crass he is sometimes. Though he probably doesn’t really mean it but she doesn’t want to risk it either knowing his temper.

He glares at her but doesn’t say anything. She’s starting to understand that it irks him when she talks back or disagrees with him. He wants a mindless bimbo who indulges his every whim. That’s not her, she thinks with a snort. He’s begged her to come back and providing her a place to live isn’t going to change that dynamic.

Julie would rather go home as soon as he’s gone in all honesty. But feels the consequences won’t be great for her. He goes to the en suite bathroom, probably to shower. When he comes out he is only in his towel, then goes to his huge walk-in closet. When he walks out, he is natty in a black suit.

“You’re free to wander around the house while I’m gone. Ingrid will fix you some grub if you’re hungry. But I want you to be here, in this room, when I’m back.”

“I have no clothes.” She points out. “You ripped my clothes.”

Dean was rather aggressive and impatient in their coupling earlier. He literally ripped her dress and her panties.

He smirks at the realization. “Works in my favor. I like it best when you’re naked, anyway.”

“You can’t expect me to wait and sit around naked all day!” She says. “There must be some women’s clothes here somewhere. I’m sure I’m not the only woman who’s ever been here. I’m pretty sure some of them shed some articles of clothing along the way.”

“True, but I don’t keep souvenirs.”

“I can’t go home naked.” She presses on.

“I guess you’ll just have to stay put then.” He teases, but her murderous expression tells of her lack of amusement. “You’ll just have to wear some of my clothes.”

Julie watches his back as he leaves the room. She doesn’t ask where he is going. She doesn’t care, but she guesses it’s an official business or something that requires him to behave. She is deep in thought after he leaves. The first time she was here, she wasn’t allowed to wander around. She doesn’t know how she feels staying the night waiting for him. She feels like it threatens what little independence she has left. It’s obvious he plans on “using” her after.

The silence of the room and lack of company makes her thought wander. She is thinking about the ‘serious artillery’ plan that Polly suggested. But Julie doesn’t know what she should do. How does one pretend to love someone, anyway? Maybe she can start by tolerating his presence. Then works her way up to like being with him. That’s going to be a stretch, because she doesn’t. At least it needs to be a slow build up which gives her a bit of time to get used to the idea. Then, she needs to start paying him attention, and being his listening ear. That sounds more like a pretending to be a good little wife. She can’t pull it off.

But what’s the alternative? Hang around doing this for god knows how long. The vague risk possibilities that could befall her again is unsettling to her. She doesn’t want to find herself being gambled away again, or worse. That thought sways her decision. This deception is definitely not for the squeamish like her, but she has to do it. It’s worth it.

Maybe she can start off with acting like she likes it when he touches her. She doesn’t find him revolting physically but his personality makes it hard to tolerate him and his presence.

Julie realizes she gets her chance to practice and try out her acting skills when he comes back later.

.

When she’s sure that there’s no one inside the house, she comes out of his room because she’s getting bored out of her mind sitting on his bed doing nothing. She notices there isn’t a single family picture in his house. Even she doesn’t find a single picture of Sam. His walls mostly consist of paintings or just plain bare. The décor also features a collection of swords and daggers, which makes the room even more imposing. The house really lacks warmth. She has no idea how he finds this place comfortable. Or maybe that’s just his style; dark and ominous.

Julie finds a library near his study. The room is big and he has a massive collection of books of all kinds. It’s full of perfect quotes; piles of literature that people read and recite from because it speaks the truth at the heart, no matter how dark, ugly, or beautiful that truth might be. Books make her realize that one of the good things of the complexity of the human condition is that one can phrase it into elegant lines that take on masterful significance. There is a whole section of old texts as well. She wonders if he’s actually read all of this. It would be impressive if he had.

After a while her stomach is grumbling. Julie finds Ingrid in the kitchen. The maid eyes her attire and Julie feels a blush starting. She has searched through the rows of neatly hung clothing in his large closet but the only thing she finds good enough for her to wear is this white dress shirt. The fabric reaches just above her knees when she put it on so she thought that it’s the same as wearing a dress. Ingrid gestures for her to sit while she cooks.

Both Julie and Ingrid have gotten past the awkwardness after the maid took her shopping that day. Julie was unsure of how to react to her seemingly indifferent nature. And she found out that the feeling had been mutual, Ingrid being uncertain of how to interact with her, because she’d misjudged her and thought she was just another random simpering giggly thing Dean brings home every night. Julie also learned that Ingrid has been working for Dean’s family ever since he was still in diapers, which only made sense to her considering she seems to know so much about him and his life.

“Olga knew what she walked into when she married him.” Ingrid says. “She knows exactly what her expectations and limitations are. She knows that she must always serve her husband, and be on his side at any time. She isn’t allowed to have life outside that. Well, she is allowed to play bingo, become a scouting den mother or join a local PTA, but that’s pretty much the extent of her freedom.”

Julie is listening, trying to understand why one would ever want to marry a mafia boss, especially after knowing who they really are. She is intrigued about the fact that Dean’s uncle has a wife.

“Her life is very controlled. But it might surprise you to know that there isn’t any kind of arranged marriage business whatsoever going on. They love each other. He doesn’t allow her to work though and he always fulfils her needs, buying her stuff and all that. Olga is a shy, quiet woman who married Artur just right after her 18th birthday. She is old-fashioned and loyal, steadfastly standing by her husband and never asking questions. Simply put, she is the perfect mafia wife.”

Julie feels sickened. She can only imagine how horrendous her life must be. Or maybe that’s her point of view. But the limitations to her life are surely something she can’t accept if she were in her shoes. Realization slowly dawns on her that the way Ingrid explained also somewhat applies to her, right now, with Dean providing her needs. She grimaces.

“Don’t you want children, Ingrid?” Julie asks. Ingrid also told her that working for high-ranking Wayne Mill leaders means she’s not allowed to marry and have children. Julie has been completely baffled and a little outraged when she told her. She then proceeded to express her opinion on these backward codes and rules, but Ingrid only laughed, as if amused and assumed her to be brash and opinionated in nature.

“I don’t know.” Ingrid shrugs, “I know what my expectations are here. I’ve long decided I wouldn’t stress myself out thinking about it.”

The reason of her outrage is more of an issue being forbidden over any actual sense of loss. Julie has no idea how Ingrid can accept it. Sure maybe she was still young at the time, but over time the loss should become achingly real.  

“Ingrid can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” The maid shrugs.

“Dean told me that he’s not scared of cops…”

“You’re not planning to go to the police, are you?”

“No, but—

“It’s not him I’m worried about if you do, but it’s you.”

“Why aren’t authorities doing anything? Surely the government can’t be that oblivious to their existence and activities?”

Ingrid gives her a long look. “Wayne Mill have often been used as… instruments of Russian state power. Killing enemies, carrying out political skulduggery, running guns for the security services. Kind of hard to take them down when they have literally established themselves as political partners in the government, don’t you think?”

“But that’s in Russia. He doesn’t do the same here, does he?”

“You really want to know the answer to that?”

Julie hesitates a long time, long enough until Ingrid speaks again. “Wayne Mill is different from the mafia in Italy or the Yakuza in Japan. This group has influence around the world. Their members are found in every part of the world, except Antarctica – but even there I just say give them time.” Ingrid says. “I don’t know what you’ll do with this information, but I know that it’s important that you know. Now eat. I don’t like how you’re too skinny.”

̶

The clock on the wall marks half past seven when she hears a squeak of the door opening, startling her a little and Julie does a turnabout. Dean walks in, but stops when he sees her across the room, and for a moment, she could swear that he almost looks surprised. Did he forget she was told to be here?

When he recovers and seems to remember, he continues his stride to the en suite bathroom. Julie stares at his back dumbfounded. One side of his face is covered in blood and he smells of smoke.

The door to the bathroom didn’t close all the way when he kicked it shut behind him.

Julie stares at the gap, not knowing what to do. Something obviously happened. Should she follow him? She stares at the slightly ajar door for ten seconds before her feet guide her to the bathroom.

He’s already shrugged his jacket off his shoulders when she walks in, thrown on the floor. The jacket is also stained with blood. It’ll have to be washed to get the blood out of it, she thinks to herself. Or maybe he’d throw it out because blood never really comes out. She stares at the tile for five seconds before she looks up at him.

“Need help?”

He meets her eyes in the mirror, his hand pausing before he squeezes the red water out of it. His expression is harsh, almost murderous. Clearly he’s upset or angry. She knows he doesn’t aim it at her, but she doesn’t like when he’s angry. She also doesn’t know why she said that. He’s probably just finished doing his Wayne Mill business, which makes her regret saying those words.

 _Or this can be the perfect time to execute the plan. Act like you care._ A little voice in her head suggests.

But she doesn’t know how to start. Should she just approach him? or maybe start off with a little smile. She does, but it comes out like a grimace. She stops when she realizes there’s no reason for her to smile, considering the bad mood he seems to be in right now. Trying out her acting skills. Not too much, she chides herself, _bring it on slowly_. So she aims for a more neutral face. This is so frustrating. She thinks with a sting of annoyance.

“What’s the matter with you?” Dean grumbles. He’s obviously been watching her face in the mirror.

“Nothing.” She says.

He raises an eyebrow and she distracts herself by picking a towel on the counter and dampening it with warm water.

By the time she looks up, he’s shrugging his shirt off his shoulders.

Julie hisses in through her teeth at the sight of his shoulder, blue, purple and harsh.

“You’re injured.”

He shrugs one shoulder, the good one. Julie waits, but he gives nothing else. She nears him again, not wanting to question what she’s about to do and dabs at the blood that’s beginning to congeal on his face.

Dean frowns. “Why are you doing this?”

“I hate blood.” The lie rolling smoothly from her lips. Well maybe it doesn’t count as one because she literally hates blood.

“What happened?”

“Somebody sent their hoodlums on us.” he says in an almost nonchalant manner.

Us. Meaning it’s not just him. Probably it has something to do with his team/members/group? She doesn’t know what to call the men he surrounds himself with.

“How can you say that so calmly?”

“Because I’ll find whoever it is behind this and make him pay for it.”

Julie is sorry she asked.

“Don’t.” she says. “Violence is never the answer.”

His eyes are hard when they meet hers. “What are you, a fucking priest?”

Julie stares at him. Surprised by his outburst. She resists the urge to poke him in the eye, remembering the stupid plan. She sighs. “Just calm down. The last thing you want is to rev yourself up in anger and get your blood boiling.”

He doesn’t answer and the silence falls between them as she keeps busying herself cleaning the blood off his face. When it’s done, she moves to inspect his damaged shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, breaking the silence in the room.

“How do you know I was thinking?”

He makes a sound like amusement, and she’s surprised to find the twitch of his lips. She doesn’t know how long she has to keep up with his mood swings. “I can practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

Actually she is thinking about her plan and how to achieve a believable result, but she can’t tell him that.

“I’m thinking about how many times this has happened to you and will probably happen to you again in the future.”

He stares at her. And makes a sound telling her he’s amused. “How about, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Let me take care of the thinking, all you need to do is look pretty.”

He is teasing her, but she realizes there’s truth to it. Her role in this ‘relationship’ is to be pretty, accommodating and attentive. She is none of these things. so what is he doing with her when there are so many others prettier than her, more attentive than her, more welcoming. Worse is that he makes them sound like a team, like he’d take care of her. And that’s a lie.

“And if I don’t?” she asks.

“You’ll look like a twenty-four year old girl going on ninety because that constant scowl on your face will turn to wrinkle.” He continues.

Wrinkles on a girl like her is not a good thing, is the implication. Girls in her position are only worthwhile as long as they are desirable. She hates him for being so blasé about her position. But this isn’t what this is about. It’s about snagging his affections and use them to her advantage. Hoard the haze from the love bug into this situation until it looks believable, then starts to become a nag. It sounds like a lot of work, she thinks with a sigh.

“Can’t have that.” She says and tries another smile. He notices it, but doesn’t say anything. Julie decides that maybe she should try chatting as the first step to her supposed love.

“You smell of smoke.” She says, trying out her chatting tactic.

“Then I guess I need a shower.” He says. “Come on.”

“What?” she stands frozen, sensing her plan backfiring.

He gives her a sly smile. “I need a shower.” He says in the low tone that told her he’s thinking about her. He gives her a look. One that always presents when he is thinking about her anatomy.

She knows what he has in mind. She didn’t mean her words to lead there.

“Oh, okay.” She turns around and hurries to leave before her suspicion comes true. Before she even reaches the door, familiar strong arms snake around her waist and pull her flush up against him.

Dean moves her so that they face the mirror. His hands brush the underside of her breasts. She squirms in his arms but he only tightens his grasp.

“What are you doing?” she asks, sounding almost hysterical, though she already has a pretty good idea what.

“How did I not realize the sight you make in this shirt.” Dean breathes deeply, the rise and fall of his chest palpable at her back. His hands cup her fully, caressing through the material of his shirt. Her heart is beating quickly when his fingers are slipping the buttons from their respective holes, not so much for the sickening resignation, but more from the fact that the game is on. The pretense is on and she doesn’t know if she can pull it off.

“You always smell divine.” He says as he nuzzles his face into her neck. “I love that perfume.”

“Come on Dean, I’m so broke. Perfumes aren’t high on my priority list.”

Julie can tell he isn’t really listening because all the buttons have come undone. Julie watches in the mirror as the shirt gaping open in front, revealing her nakedness. She wasn’t wearing a bra when she came here. Julie hears his sharp gasp and the heated chuckle which follows.

“Delicious.” Dean murmurs in her ear as he reaches down with one hand and pinches her nipples until they pebble. Julie wants to look away from the mirror as the hand continues its descent until the warm fingers toys with the curls between her thighs.

Julie hears her breath echo harshly around the room, almost synchronous with his as he rubs his hardness against her spine. “We need to heal your shoulder.”

She can feel him smirk against the side of her neck, but it leaves his lips when he kisses up to her jaw. His hand grabs a fistful of her hair, using it to turn her face toward him, his lips sealing onto hers.

She always resigns herself to this every time they’re about to do it. And it’s always been quite a drain on her energy. She’s been fighting to not getting turned on.

Or maybe what she really needs is to let it all flow. Her body aches for it. But it’s him. She hates him. Hates what he’s done to her. Makes her dependent, makes her have to accept him, well accept his touch, she never accepts him.

She is then turned in his arms. Julie closes her eyes when he strips away her shirt, well his shirt. She tries to breath out the tension. She hears the clinking of his belt and then his pants are being unzipped. I can’t do this, her brain screams. In the next second, he lifts her, he carries her bodily, still kissing her, until they are in the shower. Her body reacts, but her brain still won’t give up its objection.

Dean is kissing her slow and deep. He’s only kissed her like this once, when he kissed her for the first time. Teasing, playful, and soft. Even her brain has to admit that the kiss is starting to melt her. It’s baffling her that he’s capable of being a good kisser. How can someone so selfish be a good kisser?

Julie tries to focus on the kiss and ignore the man behind it. Maybe that’s what she needs to do. Ignore he is Dean Winchester. He coaxes her mouth open to accept him. His tongue flicks against hers. Despite his rather funny smell of sweat, smoke and a little bit of metallic smell of dry blood, his mouth is still warm and fresh. A nibble here and a little nip there, she lets herself be drawn into the kiss.

Dean pulls away slightly. He cups her cheek when she unconsciously follows his retreating lips.

The realization completely throws her. Her eyes as wide as saucers.

Her look pleases him. He already started the water and the warm water pours down on her dry skin. He claims her mouth again. He kisses her harder this time, but still… Again, his kiss seems to wipe her mind of all thought. When it breaks again, she realizes that she’s melted into it, into him, which would’ve been embarrassing if it wasn’t for the fact that this was totally in the benefit of the plan.

Julie can’t believe he finds the key to breach her defensive walls. His melting kissess are the key. She supposes he’s probably had too much practice at kissing and now he’s pulling out all the stops on her. And she thinks with a determination that she is going to let it flow.

Her mind is screaming at her that this is a bad idea, but she has to. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel. This is the way forward, the way to fulfil the plan. If his kisses melt her, he’ll believe. On top of the melting kisses, maybe her awful acting will have some chance.

His lips and tongue run over the shell and down her throat to latch over his favorite spot and begin suckling. He presses his teeth over her soft skin, just enough for a little discomfort. But then he soothes the hurt with his tongue. Julie breathes out harshly at the feel of him pressed so tightly against her. The water cascading over them just adds to the intensity, warming where it lands, sending the bubbles slithering along her skin.

Her nails dig so hard into his skin when he drives his two fingers deep inside her. He doesn’t seem to mind though, for his mouth is on hers again and he kisses her harder than before, rhythmically thrusting his hand into her lush canal. It looks like he knows what he’s achieved with the kisses because he wastes no time in dealing to her brain and its objections.

Her mind is yelling inside her brain, but her body seems perfectly willing to take the leeway it has gotten with the kiss and push forwards. She arches against him, the sensation of the water and his hands soon becoming too much. It might be a good thing that she’s caught between the tile and his muscular body with the lightness of her head.

Dean pulls his fingers out of her and Julie lets out an audible sigh. Her body immediately calming without his continued attention. One of his hand supports her backside and he uses the other to lean against the wall.

The steam does nothing to hide the heat in his eyes. The surge of hunger comes from him. The looks in his eyes overwhelms her, the fact that he wants her this much. Her fingers unconsciously slip into his wet hair.

With a groan, he captures her mouth again before he thrusts deep into her. Her hands clutch his hair tighter and she locks her ankles around his back.

“You feel so good.” Dean buzzes against her lips. He holds her motionless, only half-filling her. “I love fucking you.”

Dean takes his time, drawing out her moan when he thrusts up into her again before pulling out in one swift move and slamming himself back inside her sheath without pause. She closes her lids as the feeling fluttering through her threatens to give her away.

Julie gasps as he pulses in and out of her. Her back is ground against the tile with every thrust. He leaves her lips for her neck, biting and suckling, no doubt leaving a bruise behind. He continues his thrusts, lifting her away from him to seal his mouth over one breast. Her head tosses and she feels her entire body quaking with yearning as he keeps on skilfully manipulating her body to do as he wishes.

Under his ministration her body comes alive. To the point where even her mind cannot compete. Her heart pounds, her thighs tense and her muscles quivers. Her body wants this dance and knows exactly what to do to nurture the sensations. It feels so nice to let go of the worry and the deception. And the fighting.

Unable to stop herself, her body shoving him into her hard as she floats above the clouds. A stuttering scream goes past her lips as she is trembling with no grace. She is floating around in another world. It takes her several seconds to see clearly.

Julie is clinging to him firmly and for several seconds, he remains still, as if waiting for her to go limp against him before continuing his fast thrusts. His mouth latches onto hers just as the pulsating knot of pleasure tears open and bursts into her with salty lust. His deep yell breaks the kiss. And she can feel his heartbeat hammering against her chest. His muscles tense under her palms on his shoulders.

Dean pants against her, sagging heavily for a few brief seconds before turning his head to lick at her neck. His thumb circles lazily around her nipple and she is not at all sure about what she should do with herself. Her body was still tingling and shaking with the aftermath.

He raises his head to look at her. He is smiling. He is clearly pleased. Julie is too tired to care. It’s good in terms of her plan, but emotionally it drains her.

̶

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologize for the slow update but I finally got a full-time job and now only have time to write on the weekends. I plan to finish this story though so I hope you stick around until the end. Your support keeps my muse alive!


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